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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227021">Still Waters Run Deep</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_malmaison/pseuds/rose_malmaison'>rose_malmaison</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCIS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:15:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_malmaison/pseuds/rose_malmaison</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As Christmas approaches, Gibbs and DiNozzo set off to locate missiles stolen from a Marine base near Baltimore, and find more than they bargained for. A Marine on the run, a mysterious woman, a mob family, and Tony’s past as an undercover operative all come together in explosive conclusion on the road to Stillwater.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>2020 NCIS Secret Santa Gift Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Chilly December Wind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarbucksSue/gifts">StarbucksSue</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A Secret Santa 2020 gift for StarbucksSue<br/>I played fast and loose with the timeline but this takes place before Christmas in 2006, Season 4.<br/>Did I mention this is a romance? That Tony wants to go to Stillwater for Christmas? That Jethro can be sweet? When he isn't being an ass?<br/>Thanks to my beta, who shall remain anonymous for now.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>STILL WATERS RUN DEEP</p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p>
  
</p><p><strong>Home<br/></strong> <em>by Robbie Williams</em></p><p>I've always said the wasted times<br/>Are the minutes I'm not by your side<br/>And now I travel through the night<br/>Just to be there</p><p>I told you I'm never too far away<br/>And if you need me then I'm on my way<br/>Believe me when I tell you that I wanna stay<br/>And we're all together now</p><p>You are the light that is guidin' me back<br/>And I'll be home for Christmas<br/>Home for Christmas<br/>Home for Christmas now</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Chapter 1 - A Chilly December Wind</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Wednesday, December 13, 2006</strong>
</p><p>The second Tony stepped out of the elevator and into the NCIS parking lot, the chilly December wind hit him. He took a second to flip up the collar of his overcoat before heading for his car. Popping the trunk, he pulled out the go-bag that held a change of warmer clothes and turned just in time to see a sedan barreling towards him.</p><p>The car screeched to a halt, narrowly missing him. Gibbs was driving, of course. He revved the engine impatiently while Tony stuck his bag in the trunk next to Gibbs’ smaller one. He barely had time to settle in the passenger seat before Gibbs accelerated out of the lot and onto the street. It was a bright, if cold, day, so Tony donned his designer sunglasses before turning to Gibbs. “Did McGee give you the files?”</p><p>With a jerk of his head, Gibbs indicated that the files in question were on the back seat in a sturdy folder. Just then there was a ding on Tony’s phone. “Probie sent me backup copies,” he told Gibbs, scrolling through the attached files. One thing about McGee, he was fast and efficient. As Ziva was out for the day, he was working solo. Putting his phone aside, Tony asked, “The director was okay with me going to Baltimore with you?” They were heading for a Marine base east of Baltimore to investigate the theft of a dozen Stinger missiles.</p><p>Gibbs turned his head only long enough to give Tony a sour look. “Let’s just say she wasn’t real eager to let you go. Apparently, you’re running errands for her now and she <em>needs</em> you. Something is going down tonight. You want to tell me about it?”</p><p>Damn, he was supposed to pick up Jeanne Benoit at six, for a night of dinner and dancing – and for something a bit more horizontal, if the director got her way. Director Shepard had been coercing him to sleep with Jeanne, sure that he’d learn more about her father, René Benoit, if they were intimate. The closer he got to Jeanne, the more Tony was sure that she had no idea that her father was an international arms dealer who went by the name La Grenouille, aka The Frog. Jeanne certainly had no inkling that the director of NCIS was after La Grenouille’s blood, or that Tony had been sent in undercover to gain her trust.</p><p>Now it looked as if the director hadn’t revealed the nature of the investigation to Gibbs. No wonder he was angry. Tony shrugged and replied, a touch bitterly, “It’s just a job.”</p><p>Gibbs gripped the steering wheel tightly and asked between clenched teeth, “A job? Is that what you call sleeping with the suspect?”</p><p>Tony stared at Gibbs for a moment, surprised by the contempt in his voice. “She isn’t a suspect, she’s the daughter of… Look, you can’t tell me you’ve never slept with–.”</p><p>Gibbs cut him off. “So you <em>are</em> sleeping with her?”</p><p>“No, I’m not,” Tony said sharply. From the sound coming out of Gibbs – a mix of grinding teeth and a snarl – it was clear he didn’t believe him. “Did the director say I was? I’m telling you I haven’t, and that’s the truth!”</p><p>There was a long silence, and when it became apparent that Gibbs was going to be his usual stubborn self, Tony reached over to the back seat and snagged the case folder. He flipped through the fifteen men’s service records but wasn't able to concentrate, so after a while he put paperwork back in the folder and stuck it down by his feet. Even though Gibbs drove over the speed limit, the trip was likely to take an hour, due to heavy traffic, and that was one hour too many to spend in a confined space with his pissed-off boss.</p><p>The thing was, Tony felt guilty about lying to Jeanne; he had since the beginning. She was smart and attractive, and if circumstances had been different he’d have slept with her on their first date. But being undercover meant you had to become someone else; you had to prevent any emotional attachment. Only, he really liked her. It wasn’t personal, he reminded himself. This was business and he wasn’t really hurting anyone. <em>Tell that to the girl when she finds out you’ve been duping her all this time.</em></p><p>He knew it was time for his alter ego, Professor DiNardo, to gently break up with Jeanne. He’d give her some excuse and walk out of her life. She’d be upset but she’d get over it.</p><p><em>‘You’re a wonderful woman, Jeanne, and any man with half a brain would be thrilled to be with you, but I’m just not that guy.’</em> Or maybe, <em>‘We’ve had a great time, but like I told you, commitment isn’t part of my vocabulary.’</em></p><p>She would demand, ‘What have I done wrong?’ He’d keep telling her it wasn’t <em>her</em>, it was <em>him</em>, but she’d get angry, and say that he’d broken her heart. There might even be tears.</p><p>He couldn't reveal who he really was, an NCIS agent trying to find her father. If he did, she’d hate him for using her to get to her father (who she’d declare was innocent and being unfairly persecuted by federal agents). She’d tell him what a horrible person he was, and that she never wanted to see him again.</p><p>And he’d believe her. Because he <em>was</em> the horrible person she’d accuse him of being. He’d used her, lied to her, played with her emotions and even betrayed her, all because the director had told him it was necessary.</p><p>Tony had never asked Dir. Shepard the specific reason why they were pursuing Benoit. He’d never questioned her order not to tell anyone about his undercover work, even though he’d had a pretty good idea that it was off the books. He’d known, deep down, that Jenny’s focus on the man she called la Grenouille was personal. It had something to do with her late father, Colonel Jasper Shepard. One thing for sure, she had revenge in mind.</p><p>The director had flattered him, convinced him he was the only man who could do the job. And he’d fallen for it, had actually believed that this assignment was one he could do without forming any emotional attachment: He would simply go in, be charming as hell, get the info out of the girl, and when he’d acquired what he needed, he’d simply walk away.</p><p>Man, he was such an idiot.</p><p>It wasn’t until after they were halfway to Baltimore that Gibbs said, “You didn’t tell me.”</p><p>Tony was so deep in thought that it took him a moment to comprehend Gibbs was speaking. “What?”</p><p>“About the work you’ve been doing for the director.”</p><p>“No, I couldn’t.”</p><p>“You wanna tell me why not?” Gibbs demanded, sounding frustrated.</p><p>“The director ordered me not to,” Tony replied. It was the simple truth, but of course, that wouldn't satisfy his boss.</p><p>“How long has this been going on?”</p><p>Tony pulled off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. God, he was tired. “Jenny started using me when you were still in Mexico.”</p><p>“<em>Jenny</em>?” Gibbs asked derisively.</p><p>Tony suppressed an instinctive eye-roll, and replied evenly, “Madam Director instructed me to casually bump into a young woman and make her believe it was by chance. My assignment was to make her like me, to trust me.”</p><p>“And how’d that go?”</p><p>“I tried too hard at first, almost lost her interest,” Tony admitted. “It needed more ‘bumbling professor’ and less ‘amusing frat boy.’ But I got it right on my second attempt, and we started going out a few weeks ago. She has a busy schedule, but we’ve managed to fit in dinner or a movie a couple of times a week.”</p><p>Gibbs was no longer fuming. He was now expressionless, which was worse than him yelling. “This is why you’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”</p><p>“Yeah. And it finally caught up to me. I’m beat.”</p><p>Gibbs asked, “Ziva thinks you’re going for some kind of medical tests.”</p><p>Tony looked sideways at Gibbs. Forcing a big smile, he said, “It isn’t easy being Very Special Agent DiNozzo by day, and Professor DiNardo at night.”</p><p>“You’ve been going to the damned <em>hospital</em>,” Gibbs said, in an intense way that belied his flat expression.</p><p>“Not because I’m sick or anything.” Wow, sounded as though Gibbs was concerned about his wellbeing. It was time to reveal all, so with a sigh, Tony said, “The woman I’ve been getting close to, Jeanne… she’s a doctor, works in emergency. That’s the only reason I’ve been going to the hospital.”</p><p>Gibbs took his eyes off the road to glance at Tony. Whatever he saw, the tension eased out of his body. “I was worried. Every time I turned around you weren’t there.”</p><p>“I should’ve told you what was going on. I’m sorry I didn’t. Look, the director needed one agent she could trust to work for her, and she chose me. I’ve been working this case on and off for a couple of months now. At first, it was an errand here and there… tagged some bags at the airport, kept an eye on some people of interest. Some surveillance. Nothing special. But then she wanted me to go undercover to get close to Jeanne.”</p><p>“Why? Who is she?”</p><p>“She’s the daughter of a French arms dealer the director is trying to hunt down.”</p><p>“A French arms dealer? Oh crap, don’t tell me you’re going after La Grenouille?” Gibbs asked with a scoff. “Shepard’s trying to catch The Frog on US soil? Good luck with that.”</p><p>“You know him?” Tony asked, surprised.</p><p>“Never met the man, but I know Jenny’s been after him for years. Thinks he had something to do with her father’s death.”</p><p>“Did he?”</p><p>“She sure as hell thinks so, and that’s all that matters,” Gibbs said wryly.</p><p>Tony watched the traffic from his window for a minute, then said, “Jeanne knows nothing about her father’s business, and, as far as I can ascertain, she has next-to-no contact with him. It’s a waste of time. I should call her, let her know I’m not going to see her anymore.”</p><p>Gibbs sent Tony a disappointed look. “If you’d brought me up to speed, we could’ve worked together. I would have watched your back.”</p><p>Tony shook his head. “You think I didn’t want to tell you about it? Director Shepard ordered me not to. She said not to trouble you because you had enough to deal with getting back into the swing of things. I’m sorry, Boss, but it was her call.”</p><p>“You work for me!” Gibbs said loudly.</p><p>Tony retorted, “Not on this, I don’t. Look, you were away, out of touch for months, and since you came back… let’s just say you haven’t been at the top of your game.” Gibbs was glaring at him, so Tony grinned and added, “Of course, now you’re back full throttle, Boss! And, between you and me, the restored Gibbs is so much better than out-of-Mexico Gibbs, with the big shirts and the long hair… and the mustache, oh my God, the mustache–”</p><p>“Enough, DiNozzo! I get it.” Apparently, that was enough to get Gibbs off the angry-train, because he ran a hand over his mouth and jaw, now clean-shaven, and smirked at him. Tony realized how much he’d missed seeing that smile.</p><p>Gibbs had been looking better the past few weeks. Thank God he’d cleaned up his appearance. Tony hadn’t said anything about it, but the mustache and the long hair had served to remind everyone that Gibbs’ return to DC wasn’t long-term. For the first couple of weeks, he’d seemed ready to bolt for the nearest exit at the slightest provocation. Tony had been afraid he’d head back to Mexico without even saying good-bye. But he’d stuck around, and now, after being back for three months, he seemed more like his old self. He’d even shaved and had his hair cut. This was the Gibbs he knew, focused, plain-speaking, and effortlessly keeping his team on their toes.</p><p>Tony smiled. “Good to have you back, Boss.”</p><p>Somehow Gibbs managed to get his hand behind Tony’s head and delivered a resounding slap. Tony cried out and touched the place where he’d been hit. “Ow! What was that for?”</p><p>“For keeping secrets from me,” Gibbs growled. “And for letting Jenny sucker you into that crap of an assignment, and without backup!”</p><p>“Okay, okay! Won’t do it again. Never. Promise. Pinkie swear. Bob’s my uncle,” Tony said, purposely overdoing it.</p><p>In response, Gibbs reached over and gave Tony’s hand a quick squeeze. His grip was warm and rough, and far too fleeting.</p><p>Gibbs admitted, “I don’t like this whole thing. Shepard. You and the girl. And the CIA’s got to be involved. They control half the arms dealers in Europe.”</p><p>“You’re jealous?” Was this about him getting close to Jeanne? Or was Gibbs mad about the director using him to do the legwork for her personal vendetta? “Don’t be.”</p><p>“I’m not jealous,” Gibbs replied, eyes on the road ahead.</p><p>“You know the tips of your ears get red when you lie?” Tony teased.</p><p>Gibbs took a moment to glare at him before turning back to watch where they were going.</p><p>“You know you’re stuck with me, for better or for worse,” Tony said lightly. He meant it though, with his entire being. “Just think, if Ziva and I hadn’t gotten stuck in that shipping container…”</p><p>“And if you hadn’t been shot…” Gibbs added.</p><p>“Not that anyone believed it.” Tony crossed his arms and let out a displeased huff of breath.</p><p>“I did. I took you home with me,” Gibbs reminded him.</p><p>Tony smiled. Gibbs had, indeed, taken him home, and he’d checked the graze on his arm, changed the bandage, and then he’d kissed him and told him he should stay. “Hard to believe it’s been almost a year since we got together,” Tony said. “We should do something for our anniversary. January is a good time to visit the Bahamas. Can I officially call you my boyfriend now?” He knew Gibbs didn’t like that term to describe their relationship. Even so, they had endured a few ups and downs between that first kiss and now, but Tony was fully committed to Gibbs, and Gibbs to him.</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Well, there has to be some alternative,” Tony said, pressing the point. “Significant other is such a mouthful. Lover is too suggestive. How about suitor, or does that sound like we drink lemonade sitting on a porch swing on summer evenings?”</p><p>“Partner?” Gibbs asked tentatively.</p><p>“Sort of confusing since we work together. You can be my beau,” Tony proposed.</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Husbafriend? King of my ring? Bufra?”</p><p>“Okay, fine!” Gibbs said loudly, in an attempt to stop Tony’s suggestions.</p><p>“Fine…? Which one?”</p><p>“Boyfriend,” Gibbs said so quietly Tony would barely hear him.</p><p>“I’m sorry, what was that? I think I heard you wrong.”</p><p>Gibbs shook his head and muttered, “Shit, I’m in so much trouble. I said, <em>boyfriend</em> is fine.”</p><p>“Wow, that’s… that’s really great,” Tony said, realizing they’d hit a milestone. “Thanks, Jethro.”</p><p>When Jethro gazed at Tony, his expression softened and the lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. It was almost a smile. “You know I… um...”</p><p>“Yeah, I know.” Tony smiled and blushed, then admonished him, “Keep your eyes on the road, Boss.”</p><p>They had a rule that there was a line drawn between their personal and professional behavior.</p><p>They both kept to it religiously, but when they were at work, or out in public, it wasn’t always easy for Tony to stop himself from reaching out to give Gibbs an affectionate touch, or even a casual one. And, sometimes he could see a look in his lover’s eyes that clearly said he was itching to get out of work so they could have some alone time.</p><p>Gibbs may be smiling, but Tony wasn’t going to forgive and forget that easily. He knew Gibbs was still annoyed at the director for assigning him unsanctioned work, and unhappy that he had become close to Jeanne as part of the job, even if nothing had ever happened between them. Once they’d returned to DC, Tony planned to inform Dir. Shepard he wasn’t continuing with the undercover work, which wasn’t going to be a pleasant job.</p><p>But on top of everything else that was going on, Tony needed to talk to Jethro about something personal. He’d been stewing a bit, and waiting for the right moment, but it would have to hold until they were off-duty and alone. Tonight, he thought. Tonight he’d have that talk with Jethro.</p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. They Seemed to Be Ordinary People</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 2 - They Seemed to Be Ordinary People</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Tony read all of the suspects’ files, but there was nothing in them that led him to believe any of them had stolen the missiles. They seemed to be ordinary people who just happened to be stationed at a Marine Corps base from which some valuable armaments had been stolen.</p><p>When he was done, Tony began to read aloud the high points of the information on the possible suspects. “We have fifteen possible suspects, all stationed at the US Marine Corps Base Wildwood, east of Baltimore, which specializes in advanced weapons training. They have a sizable armory of weapons, and they do most of the inspections and repair of armaments for the Navy on the East Coast.”</p><p>“All they took were Stingers?”</p><p>“Yeah. This says a dozen FIM-92 missiles are missing from the Wildwood armory. Value on the black market is … half a million dollars, minimum. They haven’t been recovered, but McGee is connecting with the ATF, and will keep us updated.” He looked up at Gibbs and said, “The Stingers were discovered as being missing this morning, but they could have been stolen anytime in the past three days. Hell, they could be anywhere by now. And to make matters worse, the security system was acting weird on Friday night, with video feed going in and out, and even secure areas unlocking at random. They fixed the issue by Saturday morning.”</p><p>Gibbs’ response was to press down harder on the accelerator and weave between the slower vehicles on the highway as they approached Baltimore.</p><p>Luckily, Tony had developed immunity to Gibbs’ driving, and trusted him to get them to their destination in one piece. He continued, “McGee ran deep background checks on everyone and came up with three top suspects: Sergeant Eric Simpson, Sergeant William Pine and Second Lieutenant Reed Bartlett. Of course, the other twelve aren’t off the hook until we interview them all. All of them are being held at the base.” He asked, “Are we bringing them back to DC?”</p><p>“We’ll question them on site, then decide.”</p><p>Tony texted McGee and then reported to Gibbs, “Still no sign of the missiles. Lack of chatter suggests it may have been a special order. The Marine MPs have held the suspects, but haven’t interrogated anyone yet. McReporter says here they got orders not to. Was that your order?”</p><p>“Yup. We need to do our own questioning without the MPs messing it up.”</p><p>“If you stole a truckload of Stingers, you would have taken off right away, right? But all these suspects have remained on base. You’d think a thief with half a million in their pocket would be on a fast flight to South America.”</p><p>Gibbs nodded. “There’s no extradition from Venezuela.”</p><p>“Exactly. So maybe someone else stole them and they’re long gone, along with the missiles? Just saying…”</p><p>“Initial reports indicate it was an inside job, though,” Gibbs reminded him. “This was planned, and getting access to the heavy weapons section of the armory isn’t something just anyone off the street can walk in and do. Could be one of the Marines unlocked the doors, and someone else removed the weapons from the base.”</p><p>“Only a handful of large trucks have left between Friday night and this morning, according to security records,” Tony read from a printout of the base’s guardhouse log. “Heavy vehicles have to use the gate at the east side, and they search all trucks at all checkpoints, coming and going. Looks like they only get a few large vehicles a week.”</p><p>“Any indication the Stingers are still on base?” Gibbs asked doubtfully.</p><p>“They’ve searched thoroughly, all weekend, according to the CO,” Tony said, but when Gibbs gave him a stern look, he added, “And I’ll verify the search was thoroughly thorough, of course.”</p><p>Stinger missiles were 5 feet long but only 22 pounds, and the launch tube and grip stock added another 12 pounds to the weapon. Easy enough to move, as they were built for one man to handle and fire – but they weren’t exactly small. The base was relatively large though, with a lot of buildings and outdoor space, including training grounds and some wooded areas. It would be easiest to get them off the base before the alarm was raised, so Tony doubted they were still there.</p><p>Gibbs asked Tony to give him a rundown of the three main suspects.</p><p>“Sure. Three men had access to the armory, and none of them can accurately account for their whereabouts at all times over the past three days, and specifically for Friday night, when the security system was on the fritz. One, Sgt. Pine, left the base on an overnight pass starting on Friday evening, just as he has for the past three weekends he’s been here. As far as the armory goes, the system that keeps track of door activity had a short Friday night, but has since been repaired.”</p><p>“Closing the barn door after the horse has bolted,” Gibbs snorted.</p><p>Tony continued, “Next is Sgt. Simpson, age 45, single, lives in on-base housing, and is in charge of weapons and inventory control at the armory. Looks like he’s been the same rank and position for the past twelve years. Does that mean he’s really happy with his job and doesn’t want a change?”</p><p>“Or that he has the ambition of a slug?” Gibbs asked, not expecting an answer.</p><p>“Then we have Sgt. William Pine. He’s just completed teaching a 4-week advanced weapons training to reserves. Says here he comes from Wisconsin, joined the Marines at 21. He’s now 27, never married, no kids. No next of kin listed but there’s a name and contact phone number.” He flipped over the page and said, “George M. Cohen. The number’s in New York.” He halted reading the file to say to Gibbs, “Did you know that not only was the original George M. Cohen a big Broadway producer, but he wrote over 300 songs? You know the movie <em>Yankee Doodle</em>? 1942. James Cagney played him.”</p><p>“Yeah, I got it,” Gibbs said with a nod. “Sgt. Pine. He’s the one who’s gone off-base the last three weekends?”</p><p>“Yep. According to the MPs, the sergeant checks out 1700 Friday and returns 1700 Sunday. They were under the impression it was to see a girlfriend. There’s no vehicle registered in his name; I guess he <em>could</em> take public transportation to wherever he goes every weekend.”</p><p>Gibbs asked, “What’s his stateside address?”</p><p>Tony checked and supplied, “1265 Lombardi Avenue, Green Bay, Wisconsin. Pine has done several tours overseas. He’s seen combat in Liberia, Pakistan, Iraq. Got a chest full of medals and commendations. This is his first time on US soil since he signed up, and he is currently going through the process of separating from the Marines. His assignment until then is teaching advanced weapons, including Stingers for short-range air defense. He only has one more week and he’s walking away from military life. Not your usual suspect, Boss.”</p><p>“Can’t judge a book,” Gibbs reminded him.</p><p>Tony read through Sgt. Pine’s background information once again. There was something about it that bothered him but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Like all the other files, there was a head shot of the Marine in the upper left corner. Tony had already studied it, just as he had all the other Marines they were going to question.</p><p>Sgt. Pine was a good-looking young man with dark hair and dark eyes, but there was nothing unusual about him. Only… Tony suddenly had a feeling he’d seen him somewhere before.</p><p>“What is it?” Gibbs asked.</p><p>“I’m getting déjà vu. I think I know this guy. Sgt. Pine,” Tony said.</p><p>“You cross paths with him in an investigation?”</p><p>“I don’t think so. I always remember the suspects, witnesses, people we interview. And, according to his record, he’s been on active duty ever since he joined up,” Tony said slowly. “Maybe it was before that. I don’t think I’ve ever been to Wisconsin though.”</p><p>“Maybe he lived in Baltimore?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Maybe I’m imagining it. These guys all look the same with their high-and-tight haircuts.”</p><p>“Face-to-face, when we interview him, might ring a bell,” Gibbs said.</p><p>“Maybe.” Tony slipped Pine’s page underneath the other two men’s. Suddenly he slapped his knee and laughed. “Shit, I can’t believe I missed it.”</p><p>“What?” Gibbs asked.</p><p>“The address Sgt. Pine gave in Wisconsin? It isn’t residential. It’s Lambeau Field! Home to the Green Bay Packers! I knew there was something about him that wasn’t right. But why would he give a fake address?”</p><p>“How’d you know the address for the Packers’ stadium?”</p><p>“I had a set of sports cards with stadiums, and all the info about their size and capacity, including their locations,” Tony said. He shrugged. “I remember stuff like that.”</p><p>Gibbs shook his head. “We’ll find out more when we sit him down for a little chat.”</p><p>“Okay, back to the suspects. The third Marine of interest is Second Lieutenant Reed Bartlett. He’s 39, and his dad was a Marine so he grew up on bases mostly. Been here in Baltimore for five years, works in recruiting. He’s divorced, and he plans to move to Vermont to be close to the ex and their two kids.” Tony took a deep breath. “Nothing screams ‘arms dealer’ with any of these guys, but until we’re done, I guess everyone is a suspect.”</p><p>Gibbs pulled up a short time later at the front gate of the Marine Corps Base Wildwood. After showing their IDs they drove to the main building and parked. Before he got out of the sedan, Tony handed Gibbs the files while he pulled out a small bottle of Visine and applied a few drops in each eye. He noticed Gibbs was watching him, so when he was done, he offered him the bottle. “It’ll make the whites of your eyes shine in the dark,” he said, blinking rapidly.</p><p>Gibbs seemed amused, but he gave a small shake of his head and looked through the profiles of the Marines they were about to interview. Tony waited patiently even though he was getting hungry. He couldn’t remember eating breakfast and they hadn’t even stopped on the way for coffee. Maybe he could get something from the mess hall before they started working.</p><p>As soon as Gibbs was finished, he muttered, “I need coffee.”</p><p>Tony stuck the paperwork in the folder and they both got out of the car. He stretched and his back popped. “Oh, that feels good.”</p><p>Gibbs looked him up and down and gave one of his not-quite-a-smiles. “Maybe you need a massage before we start these interviews, DiNozzo?”</p><p>With a grin, Tony replied, “Now that’d be nice… Will you take a rain check? Right now what I really need is some food.”</p><p>“Let’s get some chow then. With fifteen interviews to do, it’ll be a while before we get another chance to eat,” Gibbs agreed. He headed towards the entrance, walking briskly with Tony on his six.</p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p>Gibbs handed Tony half the profiles. “You take these. I’ll do the rest. We leave Simpson, Pine and Bartlett until last.”</p><p>“Let them stew?” Tony asked, already knowing that’s exactly what they were doing. Knowing Gibbs, he’d probably stare at them silently until they broke and confessed all.</p><p>The Marines were being retained in an empty cafeteria large enough that the MPs could seat them far apart. Tony stood in the doorway and looked over the fifteen men, hoping he could pick out Sgt. Pine without seeming too obvious. Yes, there he was, sitting straight in his chair, just like the others. The young Marine was well built and looked like he worked out. When he glanced up questioningly at Tony’s entrance, their eyes met for a second. Tony purposely acted disinterested and averted his gaze. No need to let the man know he was particularly interested in him. The problem was, there was something vaguely familiar about Sgt. Pine, yet Tony still had no idea how he knew him. It wasn’t like him to have trouble placing people, even if he met them out of context, and that was maddening, especially when he felt it was important.</p><p>Tony gave the MP the name of the first Marine he wanted to talk to, and returned to the room across the hall set aside for the interviews to wait for the suspect. Gibbs was already situated in the room next door, and as he walked by, Tony could see him through the door’s narrow glass window. He was sitting at a desk with a big mug of coffee at his elbow and a young Marine seated nearby. The poor guy looked scared, Tony thought with a rueful smile.</p><p>The interviews went smoothly, for the most part. A few men were reluctant to reveal some personal information, but their CO intervened and made it clear that they had to answer any and all questions posed by the NCIS special agents fully and without hesitation. Coffee, soft drinks, water and snacks were provided by an earnest young Marine who informed Tony he was a food service specialist and was looking forward to going on his first tour in a few weeks.</p><p>After they had completed six interviews each, Gibbs and Tony took a short break to compare notes.</p><p>Tony reported, “These two had sealed juvie records but have been squeaky clean since they signed up. A Lieutenant Parkinson, who hails from a small town in Pennsylvania, kept asking me questions about working with the famous Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Apparently you have quite the following back there. Anything you want to tell me, Boss?” Tony asked with an encouraging smile.</p><p>He knew that Gibbs hailed from Stillwater, Pennsylvania – he’d wheedled that information out of the man long ago – but he knew next to nothing about the town or if Gibbs kept in touch with anyone back there. He might be close to Gibbs in some ways, but there were some things the man was annoyingly close-lipped about.</p><p>Gibbs growled and asked, “Alibis?”</p><p>“All checked out. Are you going to take me there sometime? Road trip?” Tony asked with a smile.</p><p>“Take you where?”</p><p>“Back to your old stomping grounds! I want the ten-cent tour. You know, where Leroy went to high school, the ballpark where you hit your first homer, the scenic spot where you first kissed your girlfriend. The house you grew up in. You can introduce me to Aunt Bertha, who’s your favorite aunt because she always has fresh apple pie warming on the stove,” Tony suggested, not knowing if Gibbs even had any relatives back in his hometown.</p><p>Gibbs acted as if he hadn’t heard a word Tony had said. “Anything strike you about any of them?”</p><p>Tony sighed. He’d never stop trying to wheedle information out of Gibbs, but now wasn’t the time. “You mean like a gut feeling? Well, yeah, there’s one guy who gave me the creeps, and I’d bet you if we dug up the dirt basement floor back home, we’d find his personal collection of bodies. He <em>is</em> an ordained minister at the Awakening Believers Church,” Tony said, with a wise nod. “I’m telling you, when they discover he’s a serial killer, the neighbors will look puzzled and say, ‘But he was quiet, and <em>such</em> a nice man.’”</p><p>“DiNozzo!”</p><p>“And then there’s Private Bartholomew, who owes child support and is having his pay garnished. He was on gate duty the first night the Stingers may have been stolen. He was acting a little squirrelly and admitted his alimony payments are killing him, but I couldn't get anything else out of him.”</p><p>“Check the gate logs and see if there’s anything on the security videos,” Gibbs said.</p><p>“I did that,” Tony said with a smile. “I already spoke to Lt. Col. Farley, and he verified that Bartholomew was at the gate from Friday midnight to 0800 Saturday morning. One truck exited shortly after his shift started Friday. Paperwork says it was carrying barrels of used oil, which were delivered to a recycling plant in Baltimore.”</p><p>Gibbs looked expectantly at Tony, so he grinned and asked, “Want to guess who was driving that truck that night?”</p><p>“You want to guess how quickly I can kick your ass to the curb?” Gibbs replied.</p><p>“Okay, okay! It was Second Lieutenant Bartlett.”</p><p>“That's not his usual job.”</p><p>“No, it isn’t. The CO says Bartlett never drives trucks and has no authority to do so. And, by the way, Sgt. Pine was not with him. He’d already left the base, like he always did on a Friday night, at 5 p.m. He was back here Sunday. I don’t think he’s involved in this.”</p><p>Gibbs swore. “So they moved the missiles off-base right away. Damn! They’ll be long gone.”</p><p>“If we find out who bought them, and can track them. Time to lean on Bartlett,” Tony said with a tight smile.</p><p>Second Lieutenant Reed Bartlett seemed nervous, but then he’d been waiting three hours for his turn.</p><p>Tony sat next to Gibbs, who started out by asking some background questions.</p><p>Bartlett came from a military family but he’d had enough of it, he said. He planned to open a hardware store in Vermont, to be near to his ex-wife and kids.</p><p>In response to Gibbs’ questioning, he said, yes, opening a store was expensive, but this was a franchise deal, and he’d already arranged a loan.</p><p>“Moving, dealing with a demanding ex-wife? And kids are expensive,” Gibbs said, nodding knowingly.</p><p>“Money is tight but I swear I’d <em>never</em> steal anything, especially not military property. That’s not the way I was brought up,” he insisted, wiping his palms on his thighs. “I wasn’t on duty the night the Stingers were stolen. I never laid eyes on them, honest. Hell, I don’t even know how anyone could get them off the base, security is that good,” Lt. Bartlett said plaintively, beads of sweat appearing on his brow.</p><p>“How about in a truck, hidden behind a dozen used oil barrels?” Gibbs demanded.</p><p>Bartlett paled. “I don’t know anything about the weapons, or if they were hidden.”</p><p>“Why’d you take the truck? You weren’t cleared for driving it, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“I only did it as a favor. It was… easy money.”</p><p>“You didn’t check what you were transporting?”</p><p>After squirming around a bit, Bartlett divulged that he’d been told not to ask any questions. “I needed that money,” he whined. “He threatened me. My kids…”</p><p>Gibbs wasn’t about to show any sympathy. “Who paid you to drive the truck?”</p><p>Bartlett hesitated, so Gibbs slammed his fist down on the table so hard the coffee jumped cup jumped and the coffee sloshed onto the table. “Who paid you and where did you take the cargo? Who are the buyers?” Gibbs shouted in Bartlett’s face.</p><p>“Simpson, it was Simpson! He said he needed to bankroll his retirement! I don’t know anything else. He kept me in the dark, so I don’t know who the buyers are or anything. I swear!”</p><p>When they got the address where he had driven the truck out of Bartlett, Gibbs ordered the MP to confine him to the brig.</p><p>Once the lieutenant had been taken away in cuffs, looking very sorry for himself, Tony tapped the dial of his watch and said, “You broke him in less than five minutes, Boss. Good work.”</p><p>“Tell me that after we’ve recovered the Stingers,” Gibbs snapped.</p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Gibbs Was Getting Impatient</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 3 - Gibbs Was Getting Impatient</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, McGee says the ATF is checking out that warehouse in New Jersey,” Tony said once he got off the phone. “It’s only 2 1/2 hours away so Simpson could have easily made it there, unloaded, and been back at the base by breakfast. The property was owned by a small engine parts company that’s now defunct. It’s supposed to be empty.”</p><p> </p><p>Next Tony asked the MP to bring in Sgt. Simpson, the Marine weapons specialist who’d had the same job for the past twelve years. Tony drank some bottled water while they waited. Gibbs was getting impatient and was about to go and get the man himself when an alarm started blaring out in the hall. Tony met Gibbs’ eyes and they both swore at the same time. Hurrying out of the interview room, they ran into an MP and asked what was going on.</p><p> </p><p>“Sgt. Pine complained he was sick to his stomach. He had to use the head,” the MP said nervously. “And then Simpson had to take a leak.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean you let them walk <em>out</em> of here?” Tony asked angrily.</p><p> </p><p>“And nobody was watching them?” Gibbs shouted.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes sir, we were, only… only somehow they slipped out,” was the excuse. The MP insisted they’d be located soon, as a lockdown and search was in progress. Before leaving, he recommended the NCIS agents to remain in the interview room and lock the door. “For your own safety.”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs snorted and ignored the suggestion. He pushed his way past the MP and headed down the hall. Tony grabbed the paperwork, jammed it in his pack, slung it over his shoulder, and ran after a fast-disappearing Gibbs.</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>The sun was going down and it was getting colder by the minute when they caught up with the CO, Lt. Col. Farley. “They got <em>away</em>?” Gibbs demanded.</p><p> </p><p>It appeared that both Simpson and Pine had escaped in a small supply truck, and the GPS had been disconnected. Gibbs turned his back on the CO and led the way back inside with Tony following. “I want to know everything about these two men. Family, where they live, friends, cell phone records, bank accounts. Everything! Get McGee on it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Boss, we already have their cell records, and McGee sent their bank records, but there’s nothing unusual in them,” Tony reminded him.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs turned on him. “Then get him to go over them again. And let’s find out where Sgt. Pine has been going every weekend!”</p><p> </p><p>They were shown Sgt. Simpson’s quarters first. He lived in a four-man bungalow on the base. It was plain but had some homey touches, and was kept military neat. After donning gloves, the NCIS agents went through Simpson’s rack, and searched through his belongings for evidence.</p><p> </p><p>“Sgt. Simpson likes fast cars and large women,” Tony said, after going through a stack of magazines and papers. “His sister writes from Santa Barbara and sends him cookies, but it doesn’t look like the man has much of a life outside the barracks. His roomies say he likes his job and doesn’t want to rise in rank or responsibility. He seems satisfied with where he is.” Gibbs raised his eyebrows so Tony added, “Hard to believe he’d plan a robbery like this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds like someone put him up to it,” Gibbs said. His phone rang and after a brief conversation, he barked, “Track the money!” He hung up and relayed to Tony that McGee had discovered that $25 thousand had just been deposited to an account Simpson had opened at the Bank of New York on Friday. “Transferred into it an hour ago.”</p><p> </p><p>“A down payment? That means they haven’t received the merchandise yet, whoever ‘they’ are,” Tony surmised.</p><p> </p><p>Sgt. Pine’s single room in the temporary quarters was bare except for the basic furniture. There wasn’t much to find apart from clothing in the closet, toiletries in the bathroom, and a couple of paperbacks on the nightstand. Gibbs leafed through the books and a folded letter on pink paper fell out. He squinted at the writing then handed it to Tony. “Read it.”</p><p> </p><p>“‘<em>Soon we will be together, and nobody is ever going to break us apart. Forever yours, M</em>.’” Tony raised the paper to his nose and smiled. “Pretty perfume. Looks like Pine has a sweetheart.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony bagged the note and a few other things, including a hand-written receipt from Bobb’s Garage, for new tires on a 1995 Ford Aspire. The name on the receipt was W. Pine and the address he gave was of the Marine base.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs said, “Let’s talk to the neighbors.”</p><p> </p><p>The Marine who was staying in the room next to Pine’s didn’t have much to say, other than he thought Pine’s girlfriend was Martina. “Or maybe Marina? Or Maria? Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs called McGee and had him find out if Sgt. Pine had a car registered in his name. McGee said no, there was no vehicle registered to Sgt. Pine. Tony took the phone and asked McGee to check on that make of car registered to anyone with the first name Marina or Martina. Or Maria. “It’s a chick car,” he explained. “And Pine’s been overseas for the past six years. He’d have no reason to keep a car.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll call back when I find out,” McGee said before getting to work on it.</p><p> </p><p>“Good catch, DiNozzo.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Boss.”</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>Two Marines who had been staying in the same temporary housing as Sgt. Pine supplied some insight into the man. Tony told Gibbs, “They say he only recently reconnected with an old girlfriend. One saw her pick him up outside the base in a turquoise Ford the first week he was here, possibly a ’95 model, but last weekend Pine took a bus to the subway. He’d mentioned the car needed repairs and she couldn't come for him. They didn’t know her name or where she lived she lived, but one man thought Pine said something about her working at a hotel on a lake.”</p><p> </p><p>McGee called again and said they were still working on finding the girlfriend and the Ford Aspire, but word had just come in that the truck the two Marines had fled in had been located in Baltimore, abandoned. He was sending them the address and said, “The local LEOs are on the scene.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony spoke to McGee just long enough to find out that neither of the fugitives’ phones was turned on but he was keeping an eye out for any activity.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs wasted no time and went to get their car. He pulled up at the curb and Tony hopped in just in time, as Gibbs barely waited for him to close his door before gunning the engine. “Can’t McGee track them by their cell phones or CCTV or something? Damn it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Not if they’re using burn phones.”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs tore right past the guardhouse at sixty, and Tony thanked their lucky stars the gates were open. He was sure Gibbs would have tried to crash through, and although he believed in Gibbs’ driving skills, the military gate was tough enough to withstand the battering of an ordinary automobile.</p><p> </p><p>While they were driving into downtown Baltimore, Gibbs’ phone rang. He pulled it out of his breast pocket and handed it to Tony. “Deal with her.”</p><p> </p><p>It was the director, so Tony inhaled deeply before answering, “Special Agent Gibbs’ line. How may I help you, ma’am?”</p><p> </p><p>Apparently, Dir. Shepard was not happy because she’d heard they hadn’t yet recovered the Stingers and the SecNav was breathing down her neck, and she demanded to know what was going on. Once Tony explained that it would be dangerous at this moment for Gibbs to talk and drive, and that he would be happy to give her a SITREP, Dir. Shepard calmed down. At the end of the conversation, just before Tony was about to end the call, the director reminded Tony about his obligation to continue with his undercover assignment.</p><p> </p><p>She went on for a while, sounding vaguely threatening, and very passive-aggressive, but Tony heard her out. He said, “Yes, Director,” several times and was able to hang up. “Oh boy, I’m gonna have to excuse myself from the assignment when I get back. Sure looking forward to that. She’ll probably fire me,” he said dejectedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, she can’t fire you. Not if I have anything to say about it,” Gibbs assured him.</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>It was dark by the time they arrived at the location where the Marine supply truck had been discovered, ditched under the highway underpass. A team of Marines arrived on site soon after the NCIS agents, and a Baltimore PD patrolman was present.</p><p> </p><p>While Gibbs went to talk to the patrolman, Tony looked around, trying to picture where he would go if he was on the run. On foot? They wouldn’t get far with the BOLO being circulated across the city. Tony pulled up a map app on his phone and checked on public transport. He hadn’t lived in Baltimore for several years, but he was certain there was a subway station close by. “Boss, there’s a Metro station up this street. If they took the northbound to Central Station they’d be able to transfer in any direction.”</p><p> </p><p>He called the Metro Transit Police, to get some eyes on the subway stations immediately. After talking to the officer in charge about what they needed, Tony hung up and turned to Gibbs. “We can go look at the CCTV at the Transit Police station.”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs followed Tony’s directions and twenty minutes later they were in a below-ground control room lined with dozens of surveillance screens. They were greeted by Captain Sanford, who Tony knew from his time in Baltimore.</p><p> </p><p>“I remember you, Detective DiNozzo. Always the smart guy. I knew you weren’t gonna stay with us long. You had your eye set on something else, right?” the captain said, slapping Tony on the back.</p><p> </p><p>With a glance at his boss, Tony replied, “Ah, youth. Things have changed, Captain. I’m planning on staying at NCIS for as long as they want me.”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs intervened. “Who do we talk to?”</p><p> </p><p>“So, the guy you want is our best tech, Murray. He knows everything there is to know about the city. Hey Murray, here’s the NCIS guys. Give ‘em whatever they want.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony sat down beside Murray and reviewed the playbacks of the passengers traversing the central station. Gibbs leaned over his shoulder, occasionally pointing out someone he wanted to zoom in on.</p><p> </p><p>Tony was concerned they were barking up the wrong tree, and about to suggest another approach, when Gibbs pointed at a man in a hoodie walking across the concourse with his head down. “Follow him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that Sgt. Pine?” Tony asked, squinting at the screen.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs nodded. “He’s wearing combat boots.”</p><p> </p><p>Murray switched from camera to camera, following the hooded man’s progress until they were certain he’d boarded a Metro line that ran northwest. Murray talked to his captain, who got word out to his people to focus on all the stops on that line.</p><p> </p><p>They didn’t catch sight of the other Marine, Sgt. Simpson, at all, and eventually Gibbs grabbed his coat headed for the exit with a curt, “DiNozzo!”</p><p> </p><p>“On your six, Boss!” Tony called, following on Gibbs’ heels. He turned back only long enough to raise a hand in thanks to Murray. As he hurried after Gibbs, Tony heard Captain Sanford behind him saying, “I never thought he’d stay on the force, he was such a hothead. Goes to prove I’m not always right.”</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs and Tony spent the next few hours checking out the stops where Sgt. Pine may have exited the Metro. Nobody remembered seeing him. They kept in contact with Murray, who checked the CCTV at all stops on the line, but he had not spotted their missing Marine at any of them. Nor had Sgt. Simpson been seen. It was as though both men had vanished.</p><p> </p><p>“And, not together, which is interesting,” Tony mused. He checked in with McGee at regular intervals, but neither of the Marine’s regular phones had been turned on.</p><p> </p><p>McGee said, “They don’t have any friends or relatives that we know about in the city, either. Sgt. Simpson used to live about twenty miles west of Baltimore, in a town called Mission Junction. His siblings have moved out of state, and he has no connections with anyone in the area, as far as we can tell.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony, who was still unable to place where he’d seen Sgt. Pine, asked McGee to dig deeper into his background when he got the chance.</p><p> </p><p>McGee agreed, and said, “Abby’s helping me on that right now.”</p><p> </p><p>After being on the phone with the Marine Corps base commander, giving him an update, Gibbs told Tony, “While we were interviewing Lt. Bartlett, Pine told the guard he was feeling ill. They allowed him to use the latrine. Then Sgt. Simpson said he had to take a leak, and they let him go.”</p><p> </p><p>“So the two men were in there together, hatching up a plan,” Tony said sourly.</p><p> </p><p>“Only Pine really <em>was</em> sick. He made a mess of the place, according to the MP. Guess he was scared to face us,” said Gibbs.</p><p> </p><p>Tony said, “I don’t know about this. We know that Sgt. Pine was off-base all weekend, and we know the missiles were removed from the armory on Friday night.”</p><p> </p><p>“But he went AWOL.”</p><p> </p><p>“I get the feeling these two guys went AWOL for different reasons, Boss.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pine’s a weapons expert, and he’s been all over the Middle East for the past few years. It’s possible he met someone who wanted to buy some Stingers.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony yawned and shook it off.</p><p> </p><p>“You miss your nap time, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked in a harsh tone.</p><p> </p><p>“No Boss, not at all, Boss… only there’s a diner just around the corner. Has the best coffee in all the city – or at least it used to. Might as well get something to eat while we wait for them to surface, or turn on their phones. McGee’s got tracers on them. The Metro Police are watching out for them and there’s a statewide BOLO.”</p><p> </p><p>“The best coffee?” Gibbs inquired.</p><p> </p><p>“BLTs are damned fine, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, let’s go.”</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>At one in the morning, after checking in with the Metro Police, the State Police and McGee, Gibbs abruptly said to Tony, “We need sleep.” Within half an hour they were in a motel room and Tony was heading for the bathroom, declaring, “First dibs on the shower.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony, dressed in sweatpants and a tee, was lying on the bed when Jethro came out of the bathroom, rubbing his short hair dry with a towel. There was a skimpy towel around his waist that left little to the imagination.</p><p> </p><p>“You want that massage now?” Gibbs looked Tony over and smiled in a way that made Tony’s heart speed up.</p><p> </p><p>There was nothing Tony wanted quite so much as to have a tumble in bed with Jethro, but first, he had to take care of some business. He hoped it didn’t sour the mood.</p><p> </p><p>Sitting up, he patted the bed next to him. “Gotta talk first.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro sat, as requested, and cast a wary look at Tony. “Something on your mind?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I wasn’t going to say anything, but earlier, when you told me you were jealous of Jeanne…” Tony stopped Jethro’s protest with a raised hand. “This is important, Jethro.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro nodded and said, “Fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony swallowed and said bluntly, “I don’t like the way you act around Colonel Mann.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro blinked a couple of times. “How I <em>act</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, act. I’m not blind. Everybody knows she’s been eyeing you right from the start. Even Palmer said he saw sparks flying,” Tony said with a humorless laugh. “She was pissing all over you like she was marking her territory. Okay, so this was bound to happen, because you’re an attractive older guy–”</p><p> </p><p>“Older guy?” Jethro spluttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Silver fox? That’s beside the point. See, I was willing to ignore what was going on between you two–”</p><p> </p><p>“There was nothing going on!”</p><p> </p><p>“Can I please finish?”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro crossed his arms over his chest and muttered, “Fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“I knew you weren’t going to act on it, but that didn’t mean she was going to keep her hands to herself. Like that time she was in the basement with you… she was being nosy and trying to find out who you were naming your boat after–”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro frowned. “I shut her down. None of her business. But she kept poking.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, and I know how much that upset you, but you <em>did</em> have a drink with her, and she was touching your boat and asking you personal questions, and I did <em>not</em> like where it was going,” Tony said in a low, angry tone. Jethro raised his eyebrows, so Tony admitted, “I was upstairs, and heard the two of you talking.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t hear you come in.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony snorted. “I think by now I should know exactly where all the creaky spots are around the house. My point is, I don’t think she’s going to let up, and so I want you to make it clear you’re already taken. Not interested. Tell her to back off!”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro studied Tony’s face for a moment and slowly nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony stared at Jethro for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. Good.”</p><p> </p><p>“And Tony, if I do anything that bothers you, you tell me. Don’t wait on it. I’ll listen to what you have to say.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll do that. Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Can I have a hug now?”</p><p> </p><p>Tony ducked his head and smiled. “Is that all you want? No kissing, no fucking?”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro shrugged. “Oh, I definitely want all those things. How about we start with a hug?”</p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Tony Slept Soundly, Like He Always Did After Having Sex with Jethro</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 4 - Tony Slept Soundly, Like He Always Did After Having Sex with Jethro</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Thursday, December 14, 2006</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Tony slept soundly, like he always did after having sex with Jethro. They were good together, intense and silent except for the moans and groans, and the occasional grunt. He used to talk like crazy during sex, before he got together with Jethro, but now it seemed as though words weren’t necessary between them. At least, not in bed.</p><p> </p><p>He was up early, used the head, then slipped back into bed. Jethro was still asleep. The back of his neck, with the short clipped hairs on the nape, was too enticing, so Tony placed sloppy wet kisses on the warm skin, and slowly worked his way around to Jethro’s jaw and then the corner of his mouth. Jethro groaned and rolled over, and rubbed his cock against Tony’s thigh. Things escalated and soon Tony was on top, with Jethro’s legs over his shoulders, and an eager expression on Jethro’s face. Tony made it hard and fast, panting and thrusting, with Jethro’s soft moans in his ear, and as he came, Jethro stiffened and cried out, his voice deep and wavering, “Tony, God, oh God…”</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>“Shoot, I forgot,” Tony exclaimed while pulling on his shirt.</p><p> </p><p>Jethro pulled the shirt down to expose Tony’s neck and kissed it. “Mmm. Forgot what?”</p><p> </p><p>“To call Jeanne. I meant to cancel our date last night.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro growled and nipped at the bare skin on the junction of Tony’s neck and shoulder. “You mean to tell her to go to hell?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, she’s a nice lady. She doesn’t deserve that, even if the Frog is her daddy.” Tony turned to face Jethro. “And what about you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you’re going to tell your lady friend she isn’t in your wheelhouse. You know, that you like boys,” Tony said, half-joking.</p><p> </p><p>For a long moment, Jethro stood still, deep in thought. His eyes rose to Tony’s face and he said, “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“I was kidding,” Tony said hastily. “Not about you telling her to go hang onto some other guy. About you telling her you’re gay. You don’t have to out yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“So just tell her no drinking in the basement, no fondling the smooth wooden planks of your boat,” Tony said with a smile. He kissed Jethro, softly at first, and then, as their kiss deepened, more possessively.</p><p> </p><p>It was Jethro who broke away, flushed and a bit flustered. “We don’t have time for this.”</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, Tony shook his head. “No, we don’t. Have to hit the road, but as soon as we’re done with the case, I expect you to call Mann.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro nodded. “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I’ll call Jeanne.” He pulled a face. “And the director.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro grinned. “Have fun with that.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony called McGee while Gibbs phoned the ATF for the latest on the two fugitives.</p><p> </p><p>“They caught Simpson at a small airport near Philly,” Gibbs announced.</p><p> </p><p>Tony called out at the same time, “McGee says the Stingers have been located on a truck leaving that New Jersey warehouse!”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs hung up and said, “The ATF is still questioning Simpson; he admits Sgt. Pine had nothing to do with the theft. It was all him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did he say who he was selling them to?”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs said, “He’s being tight-lipped, but the ATF has linked the drivers of the truck to a homegrown militant group that’s spread out across Wisconsin, Iowa and Nebraska, and the ATF and FBI are on top of it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stealing our thunder again?” Tony asked. Not that he minded. Trooping all over the country trying to clean up the case was not on the top of his list of things to do, especially with the holidays looming. He was usually the first one to volunteer working over the holidays, but this year things felt different. He wanted to be home with his man, enjoying peace and quiet and lots of sex. With a sigh, Tony said, “We’ve got Sgt. Pine to deal with. Or are they taking over hunting him down, too?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no, he’s ours,” Gibbs said with a firm nod.</p><p> </p><p>“Tony! Tony, there’s more,” McGee was saying over the phone.</p><p> </p><p>Tony turned his attention back to McGee, who informed him that there was only one woman whose name begins with an M, and in Pine’s age group, in the state who owns a turquoise Ford Aspire. “Her full name and address?” Tony asked, pulling out a small notepad and a pen.</p><p> </p><p>“Martina A. Conti, 520 East Brookline Street, Baltimore,” McGee told him. “You might not find her because she only lives there….”</p><p> </p><p>Whatever McGee was saying, his voice faded until Tony could no longer hear him. His brain was focused on only one thing: <em>Martina A. Conti, 520 East Brookline Street, Baltimore – </em>Martina Conti? Man, that was a name out of his past. He remembered her as Marti, a nice 16-year-old whose father had ties to the mob. And now they knew that Martina had picked up Sgt. William Pine from the Marine base for the past several weekends. He hadn’t seen Marti since that time he was undercover, and Mr. Conti had tasked him with roughing up her boyfriend, Billy. Billy? William? Were they the same man? No … no, it <em>couldn’t</em> be him. Billy was <em>dead</em>, killed in a car crash just before he gave evidence against the mob boss, Mike Macaluso. Or was he?</p><p> </p><p>“DiNozzo! Tony!” Gibbs had his hand on his shoulder and was shaking him a little.</p><p> </p><p>It was enough to jerk Tony out of his reverie, and for a moment he looked blankly at the cell phone in his hand. McGee was calling out his name, too, so Tony slowly raised the phone to his ear to verify what he already knew was true. “Is Martina’s father Edward Conti? Mother is Marcella?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that’s right. Edward Conti and his wife are both deceased though. She passed away recently. Him, six years ago. You know them?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh shit.” Tony swallowed and said to McGee, and to Gibbs, too, “Ed Conti was Mike Macaluso’s bookkeeper, worked for him for years. He knew everything that was going on.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re talking about the mob boss you went undercover to catch?” asked McGee.</p><p> </p><p>“Macaluso?” asked Gibbs.</p><p> </p><p>Tony put the call on speaker. “Yeah. Macaluso went crazy and shot Conti in the head, in front of witnesses, including a teenager named Billy Pinigrino. The FBI convinced Billy to give evidence against Macaluso; they taped his statement. They made videos of everybody’s interviews in case something happened to them. Along with the evidence from my undercover work, their sworn statements were enough to put Macaluso away for life.”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs asked, “Where’s this Billy Pinigrino?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s dead. He crashed his car and died a month before trial,” Tony said, almost to himself. “Boss?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Tony?”</p><p> </p><p>He met Gibbs’ eyes. “I just realized where I know Sgt. Pine from. I think he’s Billy Pinigrino, or he used to be.”</p><p> </p><p>McGee said, “What?”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs asked, “You saying he didn’t really die in the car crash? You sure it’s him?”</p><p> </p><p>“I only saw Billy maybe a couple of times when I was undercover. He was small fry, ran numbers, kid stuff. But he was going out with Marti, which Mr. Conti didn’t like. He asked me to strong-arm the kid, discourage him from seeing his daughter. But yeah, the more I think about it, the more sure I am they’re one and the same.” Tony asked, “McGee, can we find out if Billy Pinigrino is in the WITSEC program, and if he was given the name William Pine?”</p><p> </p><p>“The U.S. Marshals Service will never reveal if he’s in WITSEC,” Gibbs warned.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll see what I can find out.” There was the sound of typing, and minutes later McGee said, “Uh-oh.”</p><p> </p><p>Alert, Tony asked, “What’s the matter? We don’t like ‘uh-ohs,’ Probie.”</p><p> </p><p>“A red flag just came up,” McGee said, sounding worried. “There’s a message on the screen…. Shoot… they know I was trying to get access to Pinigrino’s records. Oh crap, someone is calling me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who is it?” asked Gibbs.</p><p> </p><p>McGee replied, “U.S. Marshals?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I think <em>that</em> answers our question,” Tony said.</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>They stopped for coffee and some quick takeout, and by the time they returned to the car, McGee was calling back. Once again, Tony put him on speaker.</p><p> </p><p>He said Assistant Chief Deputy Randall of the U.S. Marshall’s office had neither confirmed nor denied that Billy Pinigrino was part of the witness protection program. “He reamed me out for trying to access highly sensitive information,” McGee whined.</p><p> </p><p>“It takes a lot of work to create a new background and life for someone. But it’s tough, being separated from your old life, friends and family for what seems like forever,” Gibbs said ruefully.</p><p> </p><p>McGee added, “Randall said some of them surface to go back to home, ignoring the danger they’re putting themselves in. He didn’t come right out and say it, but I think he was sort of… upset by the way some people they protect ignore their advice and basically undo everything the Marshals Office has done for them.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony sighed. “Let me guess: Randall was the case officer in charge of Billy Pinigrino. Billy couldn't stand the new life they gave him and left, and I’ll bet he took it personally.”</p><p> </p><p>McGee queried, “Billy was only… nineteen at the time? Must have been tough to strike out on his own, with no support.”</p><p> </p><p>“He had no family to speak of. And he left his girlfriend behind. That had to be hard,” Tony agreed. “Presuming Martina thought he was dead, like everyone else did.”</p><p> </p><p>“If she did, she doesn’t anymore,” McGee said.</p><p> </p><p>“Billy made it on his own,” Gibbs pointed out. “He signed up with the Marines and, according to his record, he’s been an exemplary Marine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh-rah,” Tony said.</p><p> </p><p>After they’d concluded their call, Gibbs drove to the Conti home on the other side of Baltimore. Tony told him the Contis had lived there for a couple of generations. It was in a section of Baltimore where post-war brick houses sat on neat patches of lawn, just far enough away from each other so you didn’t hear your neighbor doing dishes.</p><p> </p><p>“Looks the same as last time I was here. We doing vests, Boss?” Tony asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yep, vest up. You want to take the lead?” Gibbs offered, getting geared up.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, sure. Thanks,” Tony said with a smile.</p><p> </p><p>After pulling on his NCIS field jacket over the vest, Tony led the way to the front door and rang the bell. He heard footsteps inside and nervously licked his lips.</p><p> </p><p>A young woman opened the door, and for a second he thought she was Martina, but then he realized it was her younger sister, Angie. She was a few years younger than Marti, and she now looked to be about twenty-one.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I help you?” the young woman asked, but before Tony could identify himself and Gibbs, who had positioned himself slightly to one side, she shrieked in alarm and tried to slam the door in his face.</p><p> </p><p>Tony was quick and wedged his foot in the door, and forced it open. He had his hand on his gun but didn’t take it out of its holster. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Gibbs had his Sig in hand, so he indicated with a quick hand motion he should holster the weapon.</p><p> </p><p>Tony called out, “Angie! Hey, Angie, we’re not gonna hurt you. I promise. We’re special agents with NCIS.” He slowly opened the door, meeting no resistance.</p><p> </p><p>Angie had retreated about ten feet into the living room. She looked scared and very wary of them, but her tone was aggressive when she burst out with, “I know you! I know who you are! You’re one of Mr. Macaluso’s men. Anthony… Anthony DiMarco.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m not… I’m a federal officer,” Tony explained as he cautiously walked into the living room. “My name is Tony DiNozzo.”</p><p> </p><p>She yelled, “I remember you! You’re one of the men who killed my father! Get the fuck out! Get out of my house!” Picking up a heavy Oriental vase from a nearby table, she threw it at Tony. He ducked but it still caught his right shoulder and smashed into a hundred pieces.</p><p> </p><p>Tony held up both of his hands even though it felt like his shoulder had been hit by a large and unforgiving rock. “I never hurt your dad, Angie. I swear it! I liked him, I really did. Remember how I used to play poker with him and the guys? Right here in your kitchen. You and Marti helped your mom bake us brats in a blanket. We were friends.”</p><p> </p><p>Angie picked up an iron poker from the stand next to the fireplace and raised it like a baseball bat. “You did dirty jobs for Mr. Macaluso. You might’ve smiled a lot, and sweet-talked my mom, but I knew what you really were, another thug!”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs came to stand next to Tony. His Sig was holstered but the strap was unsnapped for quick access. Neither of them knew what the young woman was capable of, but Tony had a feeling she was just scared.</p><p> </p><p>Tony took a breath and said, “Look, I wasn’t even there when Macaluso shot your dad… You have to believe me, I’m a cop. I was undercover for the Baltimore Police at the time. All that stuff you remember, that was me pretending so I could get close to Mr. Macaluso to take him down.” He pulled out his NCIS credentials and showed Angie his badge. “Please believe me when I say I mean you no harm… And neither does my colleague, Special Agent Gibbs.”</p><p> </p><p>For the first time, Gibbs spoke. “We need your help, Ms. Conti. How about we sit and talk?”</p><p> </p><p>It took a few minutes, but Angie lowered the fireplace poker and sat stiffly on the couch. She watched the two agents with distrust, but she allowed Tony to take the poker and return it to the fireplace hearth.</p><p> </p><p>Before he took a seat, Tony paused to check out the framed family photos crowding together on the fireplace mantel. They spanned generations, everything from WW1-era wedding photos to recent photos of kids playing on swings. There was a shot of an old house in Italy, one of two dark-haired teenage girls frolicking in the waves on a sandy beach, and one of a huge log-cabin style hotel with a rough-hewn sign out front indicating it was The Lodge on the Lake.</p><p> </p><p>Tony sat on an upholstered chair and turned his attention to Angie. “It’s been a while. Seven years.”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs leaned against the wall close to Tony, and although he seemed relaxed, the girl kept eyeing him suspiciously.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to be reminded of the past. We worked hard to get past all of that,” she said tersely.</p><p> </p><p>“It must have been tough on you and your sister. And your mother,” Tony said, his voice kind.</p><p> </p><p>“My mother died of grief. Her husband was shot down like a dog by… by that piece of<em> shit</em>, and what does he get? <em>He’s</em> sent to a country club prison where they have private suites and a fucking putting green,” Angie spat, her eyes dark with anger.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry for your loss, for all the terrible things Macaluso did,” Tony said. “I did my best to get evidence on him we could use in court. But right now we’re looking for a Marine.” He explained to Angie they were NCIS, Navy cops, and told her they were looking for a Sgt. William Pine. He stressed it was important they find him, that he may have knowledge of the theft of some weapons. “Sgt. Pine isn’t a suspect or anything, but we really need him back on base. We believe that your sister might be with him. Have you seen him with Marti?”</p><p> </p><p>It was clear the name William Pine meant nothing to the girl, and Tony was sure she had no clue he was currently her sister’s boyfriend.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs held out the military ID photo of Sgt. Pine for Angie to see, and her manner immediately changed. “But this is… I don’t get it. This Marine looks like… <em>Billy</em>.” She covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes wide with shock. She searched Tony and Gibbs’ faces, and then smiled through the tears that welled up in her eyes. “Oh my God! Billy is <em>alive</em>? You mean he didn’t <em>die</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs shook his head. “We need to talk to him. Have you seen him? Maybe with Marti?”</p><p> </p><p>As it sunk in that Billy Pinigrino was alive, and they expected him to be with her sister, Angie’s smile faded. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me my <em>sister</em> is with him? She knew? And she didn’t <em>tell</em> me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Where can we find Marti?” Tony asked urgently.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you fucking kidding me? No, just go. Get out!”</p><p> </p><p>“As soon as you tell us, we’ll be gone,” Tony bargained.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no.” Angie narrowed her eyes and said in a tight, angry voice, “I’m not telling you jack shit. You think you can come in here and dump this on me and expect me to trust you? Are you fucking out of your mind? No way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please, Angie,” Tony said.</p><p> </p><p>“And you, you come in here with your badge and your hundred-dollar haircut. You may have pulled the wool over my father’s eyes, <em>Anthony </em>Di-fucking-<em>Marco</em>, but I <em>know</em> you crossed the line when you were working for Macaluso.”</p><p> </p><p>“I never did–”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>You’re</em> the one who should have had his brains shot out that night, not my father!” She refused to tell the NCIS agents where her sister was, and cursed at them until they left the house. “You motherfucking federal ass-wipes think you can play with people’s fucking lives?”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs ushered Tony out of the house, and once they were safely in the car, he released a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>Tony gave him a wry smile. “I think we poked the wasp’s nest a little too hard.”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs nodded. “Reminded me of my ex, when she got hot under the collar. You have to know when to cut your losses and beat a fast exit.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony undid the Velcro of his vest and rubbed his shoulder. “Man, she reminded me of Macaluso. He was ruthless with a short fuse. You could just about see the steam coming out of his ears. He liked me though, which might not be something I’d put on my resume, but it saved my life.”</p><p> </p><p>“You okay?” Gibbs asked, indicating Tony’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Tony carefully rotated his shoulder and winced. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. Boss? You think maybe we shouldn't have let the cat out of the bag about Billy being alive and living a whole new life, complete with a new name?”</p><p> </p><p>“He isn’t under the witness protection program anymore,” Gibbs pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but I doubt he’ll want it known he’s alive and kicking. The way Angie reacted, thrilled with the news, and then… man, she got bent out of shape. Seems like she was mad at her sister for being the one who knew Billy was alive, and for being left out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jealousy?” Gibbs suggested.</p><p> </p><p>“Sounded like it to me. But Angie was thirteen or fourteen when her dad was killed. Billy Pinigrino was a few years older, and besides, he was sweet on her older sister.”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs asked, “I know Macaluso’s in prison, and aren’t most of his people incarcerated or dead by now?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but Pine would be smart to live a quiet life somewhere far, far away from the mob’s reach.” Tony found a bottle of water and after he’d had a long drink, he asked Gibbs, “Are we still planning on taking Sgt. Pine back? I think when he saw me at the base, he thought what Angie did, that I’m with the mob, and Macaluso sent me to finish him off. So he ran, hitched a ride with Sgt. Simpson. I don’t think he even knew Simpson had stolen the Stinger missiles.”</p><p> </p><p>“You want us to give him a slap on the wrist when we find him?” Gibbs asked testily. “Maybe you want to let everyone out of prison while you’re about it?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not what I meant,” Tony said, even though he was hoping Gibbs would give the guy some slack.</p><p> </p><p>“He needs to be taken back to NCIS and questioned,” Gibbs said, sounding tired.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Boss.” Tony pulled out his phone and looked up The Lodge on the Lake. Which lake it was, he wasn’t sure, but it may be where Marti Conti was working. It sounded like a good out-of-the-way locale for her and Pine to lay low in.</p><p> </p><p>After sipping his now-cold take-out coffee, Gibbs phoned McGee and put him on speaker. “Got a location on Martina Conti’s car yet?”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t find her at home?” McGee asked.</p><p> </p><p>“You think if I did, I’d be asking you where her car is?” Gibbs snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“No, sorry Boss. You’re right. I did find out she works at a hotel on Lake Aspen called…”</p><p> </p><p>Tony cut in, “The Lodge on the Lake?”</p><p> </p><p>McGee demanded, “How d’you know that?”</p><p> </p><p>Smiling smugly, Tony said, “I’m a trained investigator, McGoogle…”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs said, “He saw a photo of the lodge in the Conti’s house. What else have you got, McGee?”</p><p> </p><p>Tony stared at Gibbs and carefully signed the words: <em>You saw the photo?</em></p><p> </p><p>Gibbs raised an eyebrow and signed back: <em>I am a trained investigator.</em></p><p> </p><p>McGee cautiously inquired, “Are you still there?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, and we’re all ears,” said Tony, smiling at Gibbs. <em>Smartass</em>, he signed.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, okay,” McGee said. “So, Martina Conti has been working at The Lodge and staying there in a guest cabin. The hotel is closing for the winter at the end of this week. We need to find them before they take off.”</p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. This Isn’t Gunsmoke, DiNozzo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 5 - This Isn’t Gunsmoke, DiNozzo   </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“If we keep going further north we’ll end up in the Great Lakes,” Tony observed when Gibbs headed for the highway that would take them close to Lake Aspen.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs grunted and then said, “Been there before. Years ago.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony slowly turned to Gibbs. “With Mom and Dad when you were growing up?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm.”</p><p> </p><p>“And living in Stillwater?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. My dad brought us to Lake Aspen. No fancy hotels for us. We camped. He had a boat, a motor launch. Nice smooth engine,” Gibbs said, smiling a little at the memory.</p><p> </p><p>“Your dad? What’s his name?” Tony asked, amazed that Gibbs was opening up to him, even if it was only in bite-sized chunks.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs smirked and said, “Gibbs.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony swatted at Gibbs’ arm. “C’mon, you know what I meant. Was it… Marlon? Eugene? Festus?” That got him a side-eye and a snort.</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t <em>Gunsmoke</em>, DiNozzo.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then spill! Oh, and is he still… alive?” Tony asked excitedly.</p><p> </p><p>With an exaggerated sigh, Gibbs said, “Jackson Gibbs. And, as far as I know, he’s alive.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean, ‘as far as you know’? How could you not know if your father’s above ground, Jethro?”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs frowned and seemed uncomfortable. He kept his eyes on the road and admitted, “I haven’t talked to him… in a long time.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean, like months?”</p><p> </p><p>“Longer.”</p><p> </p><p>“A year?”</p><p> </p><p>“Longer, okay? I don’t want to talk about it,” Gibbs said abruptly.</p><p> </p><p>“You brought it up, about family camping trips and…” Tony stopped, not wanting to quarrel. Sadly, he said, “If you don’t want to talk about it, fine. But I was going to suggest we invite him for Christmas, or maybe we could visit him… in Stillwater. He does still live there, doesn’t he?”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs snapped, “Leave it, DiNozzo!”</p><p> </p><p>Tony wanted to have it out with Gibbs, but he managed to remain silent until they stopped for a quick lunch at a roadside diner. Before heading inside, Tony removed his bulletproof vest and stowed it with the rest of their equipment in the trunk. Gibbs did the same, and watched Tony as he donned his suit jacket, straightened his tie, and combed his fingers through his hair.</p><p> </p><p>It had warmed up and the sun was out, and stretching his legs felt good. Tony could feel Gibbs’ eyes on him. He was probably struggling to find the right thing to say in order to apologize, Tony thought, and then snorted. Yeah, right, like the boss would ever say he was sorry.</p><p> </p><p>Ignoring Gibbs, Tony went ahead and sat in a booth at the far end of the diner. He had already ordered a burger and a Sprite by the time Gibbs joined him. Tuning Gibbs out wasn’t easy, but while Tony waited for his food he read the entire menu, word-for-word backwards, and pretended Gibbs wasn’t staring at him with his sincere blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>A callused warm hand covered his, and when Tony tried to pull away – because holding hands in public was not something they ever did – Gibbs said, “I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony’s eyes flew up to meet Gibbs’. “What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m apologizing.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t apologize.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do to you. Don’t be angry with me, Tony.” Gibbs leaned forward, still holding Tony’s hand, and said quietly, “It’s been so long I wouldn’t know what to say to my dad and… and I’m a coward.”</p><p> </p><p>With a frown, Tony said, “No, you’re not, Jethro! You’re the bravest man I know. Why would you say something like that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because I’ve held a grudge for so long I can barely remember what it was all about. I’m sorry, and… I guess I could call Jack. I <em>will</em> call him.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony asked, “Was it because you’re gay?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“The reason you quarreled with your dad,” Tony said, worried. “Was this because of me? I don’t want to get between you.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro gave a quick shake of his head and smiled at Tony. “No, this was a long time ago, before us. It was when my mother had just died. Jackson brought a woman to the funeral. I yelled at him in front of everyone, accused him of bringing a date.”</p><p> </p><p>“That must have been really hard for you. It seems disrespectful of her memory.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said, it was a long time ago. The woman, she was his best friend’s wife, and she was there for support. I didn’t want to know what was going on.” The waitress brought them their lunch, along with two coffees to go. They ate quickly, as they had to get back on the road, but as they were finishing up, Gibbs said, “Pull out the map – the real one under the seat – and choose a route from Lake Aspen to Stillwater.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stillwater?”</p><p> </p><p>“If we wrap this case up fast we can drive up there. You can meet my dad.”</p><p> </p><p>“Think he’ll like me?” Tony asked, trying not to appear too excited.</p><p> </p><p>With a curt laugh, Gibbs said, “He’ll like you better than he likes me, that’s for sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony grinned and finished off his soda, making sure he sucked noisily on the straw when he got down to the ice at the bottom of his glass. “How about calling in the troops? Someone from the base to transport Sgt. Pine back to NCIS for us, once we catch him?”</p><p> </p><p>“Already did,” Gibbs said with a smile.</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>It was late afternoon by the time they approached the lodge. A few cars were parked near the main building, but Gibbs drove to the rear of the oversized parking lot and pulled up in the shade of a huge evergreen. Beyond a tract of woods, the large lake sparkled in the winter sunlight.</p><p> </p><p>“The cabins are over there,” Tony pointed out. They were small and rustic, each with a front porch, and somewhat secluded from their neighbors by pine trees and bushes between them. Tony went on his own to check them out and came back with the intel that Martina Conti’s car was parked near one cabin, and that there was no sign of the other cabins being occupied. “We wait?”</p><p> </p><p>“So long as they don’t go anywhere,” Gibbs replied.</p><p> </p><p>They only had to wait a short while before a nondescript sedan pulled up and two Marine MPs got out, both dressed in cammies, and wearing body armor. Gibbs briefed them on his plan to approach stealthily, and how he expected to take Pine into custody without any bloodshed. He also made it clear that he and Tony were taking the lead. Both MPs nodded and said “Yessir!” Technically, Gibbs should have called in the police, but he figured things would go more smoothly if they had Marine MPs for support, rather than some small-town cops. He expected it would be an easy capture, and the MPs could transport the prisoner back to the Marine base at Wildwood.</p><p> </p><p>Tony and Gibbs put on bulletproof vests under their NCIS jackets before making their way through the trees to where several small cabins sat overlooking the lake. The MPs stayed at a distance, watching the NCIS agents’ backs. Although there were lights on and sounds of partying coming from the Lodge, there was nobody about, which was in their favor. If Sgt. Pine decided to come out fighting, there would be no gawking bystanders in the line of fire.</p><p> </p><p>Martina’s car was parked close to the end cabin, with overgrown evergreen bushes secluding it from their closest neighboring cabins. Gibbs gave hand-signals to the MPs and they all advanced with caution. The MPs spread out so they could keep an eye on the rear of the cabin, and Tony and Gibbs approached the front door, guns drawn but held at their sides. They were several yards away when Martina came out. She was carrying a couple of brightly colored gym bags, which she put in her car without looking their way. Leaning in, she appeared to be rearranging things and didn’t notice the NCIS agents as they came closer.</p><p> </p><p>Just as they were about to rush the cabin, Sgt. Pine came out carrying an armload of boxes. “Hey Marti, make room for these, will ya?” He spotted Gibbs and dropped them on the ground. Before the sergeant could retreat, Gibbs and Tony quickly moved forward, their guns drawn. Gibbs announced, “NCIS! Hands in the air, Pine! Drop to your knees!” Tony covered him until the MPs moved in to help.</p><p> </p><p>Martina was demanding to know what was going on, and tried to get to Pine. When Tony blocked her, she rebelled, fighting him and screaming as if he was going to kill her. “Ms. Conti, calm down! Please, Marti!”</p><p> </p><p>Sgt. Pine, on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back, tried to get through to his girlfriend. “Marti, don’t!” To Tony, he pled, “Don’t hurt her! Please!”</p><p> </p><p>Marti did a double-take when Tony cuffed her hands in front of her. She stared at him as if she couldn't figure out what he was doing there. “You’re…you’re Tony DiMarco! I didn’t believe Billy when he told me he’d seen you at the base.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony patiently explained that he and Gibbs were federal agents and that Sgt. Pine was needed for questioning. “Some weapons were stolen. We have to bring him in.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, <em>no</em>… You see, we’re married, only last week, and we’re going to Montana,” she cried, all of a sudden struggling to get to Pine’s side. “Billy, tell them you don’t have anything to do with it. Tell them!”</p><p> </p><p>Billy was shouting to Marti, and she was calling out for him; Tony was keeping her pinned to the car to stop her from struggling; the two MPs were trying to keep hold of Sgt. Pine but he was a young, well-built man who was getting more desperate with every cry coming from Marti’s lips.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, it was Gibbs who stopped everyone in their tracks by barking, “Enough, all of you!” He used his Gunnery Sergeant voice and ordered Sgt. Pine to get back on his knees, and then he had Tony bring Martina Conti closer, and firmly let her know that tears had no place in a Marine household.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs then demanded of Sgt. Pine, “You, tell me why you left the base when you had orders to stay so I could question you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I… I saw him. <em>Him</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“This man?” Gibbs indicated Tony.</p><p> </p><p>“Yessir.”</p><p> </p><p>“You scared of him?”</p><p> </p><p>Pine’s eyes moved from Gibbs to Tony and back. “I knew him the moment I saw him. It’s been a while but…” Pine shook his head. “So long as Macaluso’s alive, even though he’s in prison, there’s always been the chance he’ll send someone after me, and… I was sure DiMarco was there to… kill me. I knew coming back here was a mistake, that someone would recognize me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You had to come back, for me,” Marti said, tears streaming down her face.</p><p> </p><p>“I couldn't stay away any longer, babe, you know that,” Billy replied.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs asked Tony, “What the hell did you do to make everyone so scared of you, DiNozzo?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have no idea. I mean, I worked for Macaluso, but I’m a nice guy. Everybody thought so.” Tony shrugged. “Well, I did rough Billy up a bit because Mr. Conti didn’t like some punk mauling his daughter.”</p><p> </p><p>“My dad got you to do that?” Marti demanded. “You broke Billy’s ribs and messed up his poor face!”</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t that bad… was it? Look, I’m sorry, but if I’d refused or gone light on Billy, I’d have messed up my cover.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you killed people,” Pine protested. “You shot Sal Greco in his car, and Russo had his throat cut in his own garage, and…”</p><p> </p><p>“And don’t forget Al Trentio,” Martina added with a shudder.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait! Wait a minute! I didn’t actually <em>kill</em> anyone,” Tony exclaimed. “We faked it and the FBI took those guys away and… relocated them or something. I was undercover! Tell them, Boss. I’d never hurt anyone.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you beat up Billy!” Marti accused.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I’m sorry about that, but if I hadn’t done a convincing job, they would have sent someone else, a lot worse, and… I’m sorry you had to witness Mr. Conti being killed, Billy, but you were given a new name and a chance at another life.” It took a while for Tony to convince Pine and Marti that he really was with Baltimore PD at the time, assigned to organized crime, and was now at NCIS.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs backed him up and they seemed to believe him far more readily than they did Tony, but then they’d remembered Anthony DiMarco as being one of Macaluso’s enforcers all this time.</p><p> </p><p>After searching Pine, Gibbs had the MPs get him to his feet, and said, “I need to take you back to the base for questioning.”</p><p> </p><p>Pine protested, “But all I did was hitch a ride with Simpson. I didn’t even know he stole those Stingers until he stopped the truck under the underpass downtown and told me he was retiring, right then and there. I didn’t want any trouble. I just wanted to be out of the Marines and heading to my new home with my new wife. I’ve been planning this for a long time, Agent Gibbs. I’ve done my duty and now I’m moving on.”</p><p> </p><p>“See, he didn’t do anything,” Marti declared. She pulled away from Tony and ran to Billy. Slinging her cuffed hands over his head, she gave him an awkward hug. “I love you, Billy!”</p><p> </p><p>Tony was stepping forward to break them up when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. There, about fifteen yards away and slowly approaching through the trees, was Marti’s sister, Angie. “Oh shit, here comes trouble,” he muttered, wondering what the hell she wanted. “Okay, stop right there, Angie.”</p><p> </p><p>Angie ran forward, screaming something about Marti stealing her boyfriend and ruining her life. Before Tony could get to her, she raised a handgun and started shooting. By the time Tony fired back, Gibbs had taken a shot, and the young woman crumpled to the ground. One of the MPs kicked her weapon aside. With a shake of his head, Gibbs indicated she was dead. Marti and Billy were huddled together behind the turquoise Aspire that was now leaking fluids from several bullet holes in its chassis.</p><p> </p><p>Tony took a few deep breaths, trying to slow down his rapid heartbeat, and watched Gibbs approach him, with that sad and angry expression he got whenever he killed someone. As Gibbs got close, Tony could see concern appear in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you okay?” Gibbs asked. He sounded odd, sort of muffled, and just…weird.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m… good… Boss,” Tony replied, wondering why it was so hard to get the words out. “Wha’…?”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs reached out to steady him, or maybe to offer comfort. Tony was about to remind him they were still on the job and there was no touching allowed, but the second Gibbs touched his elbow, an intense pain ripped through his arm. Immediately Tony pulled away, and the ensuing pain was excruciating. He must have screamed, and God, the look on Gibbs’ face, that was fucking scary.</p><p> </p><p>Tony looked down at his arm, expecting to see a knife sticking out of it, or something that would account for the acute, searing pain, but , he saw the sleeve of his jacket, shredded and soaked with blood, everything below the elbow a mess. “Fuck,” was all he could get out. It took a second for him to comprehend that the wreck he was looking at was what remained of his arm. He leaned to the right and puked, then sort of toppled over. Gibbs grabbed him but Tony hit the grass with a resounding thump and lay there, wondering what the hell had just happened.</p><p> </p><p>It was like he was an observer. He watched Gibbs remove his belt and wrap it around his arm above the elbow in a makeshift tourniquet. He knew there was pain, a lot of it – burning like someone had lit a trail of gunpowder, not only along the entire length of his arm, but across his abdomen – but somehow he didn’t connect with it. It was a fierce kind of fire, and when Gibbs tightened the tourniquet, Tony screamed. Jesus, the pain was so excruciating he wanted to die, just to make it stop. People were holding him down, and he was vaguely aware there were more people clustered around, and someone produced a medical kit and they wrapped a towel around his arm to stop the bleeding.</p><p> </p><p>He must have passed out. When he came to, Tony was aware he was on his side, and his vest had been removed. Something was folded under his head. Gibbs, he could smell Gibbs on it. Then the pain hit him. It felt like someone was pushing a fist into his gut, low down, and it was terrible. He tried not to, but he whimpered.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re gonna be fine,” said a man he didn’t know, but he didn’t let up on the pressure.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” Tony ground out. He could tell he was in bad shape. He was clammy and breathing hard and so cold he was shivering. They were miles from the nearest hospital. Someone was talking about it. An hour’s drive. He’d never make it. “Gonna die,” he mumbled to himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Do not say that, damn it,” Gibbs said. He ran a hand over Tony’s hair, and it felt so good, Tony wanted to ask for more. Jethro leaned over so Tony could now see his eyes. “I’m right here, Tony. I’m not leaving you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I want…” Tony swallowed but his throat was so dry it hurt. “Want to… see Stillwater,” he said when what he really wanted to do was tell Jethro he didn’t want to die.</p><p> </p><p>Whether he’d spoken those words aloud, or perhaps Jethro just knew what he was thinking, Jethro laid his hand on the side of his face and said, “Well, you are <em>not</em> going to die, Tony.”</p><p> </p><p>He saw Billy and Marti being led away, MPs carefully steering them around the body covered in someone’s overcoat. “I forgot…”</p><p> </p><p>“Forgot what?”</p><p> </p><p>“T’ break up w’ Jeanne… And you… your girlfriend… tell ‘er to fuck off,” Tony said, his attempt at a laugh failing miserably.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll do it,” Jethro said.</p><p> </p><p>“Promise?”</p><p> </p><p>“I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>After that Tony was only faintly aware of what was going on. He was covered with a blanket. It made no difference; he felt chilled to the bone. A helicopter arrived. Not a rescue service from a hospital, he realized, but the Marines from the Marine Corps Base at Wildwood. He was bundled onto it, a corpsman in a helmet putting an O2 mask over his face, and a needle in his arm. The noise of the rotors was deafening when it took off, but with all that power and speed they got him to the trauma hospital in Baltimore in fifteen minutes.</p><p> </p><p>Jethro was there, holding his hand all the way. At one point, he leaned over him and signed: <em>I love you so much.</em> Not a bad way to die, Tony thought, just as he lost consciousness again.</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. He Had, Indeed, Survived</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>CHAPTER 6 - He Had, Indeed, Survived</strong>
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  <strong>Two days later, Saturday, December 16, 2006</strong>
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</p><p>By the time Tony was alert enough to comprehend that he was alive, and in a Baltimore hospital, a couple of days had passed. He’d lost so much blood they’d had to give him a massive transfusion, and he was surprised to find that his heavily bandaged left arm with its sausage-like fingers was still attached to his body. He’d been more scared of losing his arm than of dying on the way to the hospital, so finding out that he had, indeed, survived, and that there was hope for his arm was something to smile about.</p><p> </p><p>Jethro was always close by, holding his hand or getting him ice chips, or calling the nurse when the pain got to be too much. They finally hooked him up to one of those pumps that delivered morphine directly into a vein, and after that, he was in his own sweet haze. He didn’t even care if people heard him say silly things or if talked sexy to Jethro as if they were at home.</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p>
  <strong>Sunday, December 17, 2006</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Tony woke up sweating from a nightmare in which an alligator had a death grip on his forearm and was dragging him into swampy waters, only to find Ducky, Abby and Tim at his bedside, staring at him with wide eyes. “Oh, hey guys,” he mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid we cannot stay long, my boy,” Ducky said apologetically. “I left Mr. Palmer in charge, and I believe Ziva is manning the desk upstairs.”</p><p> </p><p>Abby sort of lurched towards the bed, arms outstretched, but the men on either side of her grabbed her arms and pulled her away. Tony had a feeling they’d already done so a time or two.</p><p> </p><p>McGee reminded her, “Hey, no touching.”</p><p> </p><p>Ducky agreed with a nod. “Remember our discussion. Red light.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, only it’s obvious Tony needs a hug, and I need to hug him so I feel better, too, and I promise I’ll be careful,” Abby said, pleading with her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“You can hug me,” Tony said generously.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t miss the look Ducky and McGee gave each other, as if they didn’t think it was a good idea. They told Abby to be gentle and watched her like a hawk as she carefully enveloped him in a soft, warm hug. “Nice, Abs,” he said softly to her when she’d stepped back to a safe distance.</p><p> </p><p>Abby started talking a mile a minute about the investigation, and went on to describe a new test she had developed to determine the age of bugs found in cadavers, and segued into Tony being shot by Conti’s younger daughter, about the mushrooms she was growing in her closet, and how the nuns were praying for him.</p><p> </p><p>Worn out just from trying to follow the train-of-thought ramblings of his favorite Goth, Tony pulled at the thin hospital blanket and looked towards the door. “Where’s Jethro?”</p><p> </p><p>That stopped Abby mid-sentence, and the expression that came over her face, sort of soft and full of wonder, and the way Ducky and McGee exchanged glances – yet again – made Tony wonder what he’d said.</p><p> </p><p>It was only when Jethro walked into the room bearing a tray of coffees and what smelled like soup and a sandwich, that Tony caught on he’d used Gibbs’ first name. Trying to make up for the mistake, he said, “Gibbs…that for me?”</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs looked at the visitors suspiciously, set his tray down and took hold of Tony’s hand. “No food until they clear you. You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think so. My side feels better but my arm… It’s still there.” He didn’t want them to see how worried he’d been about it. His fingers were swollen and ugly, but he managed to move a couple of them with a little effort. “Um… Gibbs?”</p><p> </p><p>“They know, Tony,” Gibbs said, shrugging as if their colleagues knowing that he and Tony were in a relationship was the least of his worries.</p><p> </p><p>Ducky said, “Of course, we are all terribly pleased that the two of you have found something truly special, and although such a union may not be what we, your colleagues, might have expected, we are truly happy that you two are…”</p><p> </p><p>McGee added, “Yeah. Great. I mean it, Tony. Uh-huh.”</p><p> </p><p>True to form, Abby jumped up and down in place, pigtails flying, and proclaimed, “It’s terrible that it took you getting shot, and nearly killed, to break down your defenses enough so we could see, truly understand the depths of the feelings you two have for each other. It’s as though the stars were aligned and the moon was happy.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro, whose cheeks were getting red, ushered them out. Once they were gone, he leaned over Tony and kissed him on the mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“My lips are really dry,” Tony said, for some reason feeling shy.</p><p> </p><p>“Good enough to kiss,” Jethro said. “However, I brought you this.” He pulled out a tube of Tony’s favorite flavor of lip balm, cinnamon roll flavor, and applied it to Tony’s lips before kissing him again. “Mmm. You taste like Christmas and home-cooking.”</p><p> </p><p>“When did you get so romantic?” Tony couldn't help smiling, Jethro looked so happy.</p><p> </p><p>“The moment you woke up, that’s when,” Jethro replied, and kissed him once more.</p><p> </p><p>Even though he was dog-tired, Tony had to ask about the condition of his arm, and what happened to Billy Pinigrino and Marti Conti. So Jethro lay down beside Tony and gently held him in his arms, and told him that the bullet fired by Angie’s gun had gone through his arm, leaving broken bones and a big exit hole, and then had gone on to penetrate the bottom edge of his vest, tumbled around and nicked his intestines – all of which had been repaired by a team of the best trauma surgeons in the city. Gibbs said, “It slowed down when it hit your side or else it could have been a lot worse. The doctor’ll tell you about it later.”</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t feel that bad. I can move my fingers,” Tony said, trying to sound positive. He had to really concentrate, and it hurt a lot, but eventually he wiggled his swollen digits on command. “See?”</p><p> </p><p>“You were lucky,” Gibbs said, and rested his head against Tony’s and didn’t say anything for a long while.</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>Tony woke up to find Gibbs had eaten the soup and sandwich, and was working on his second coffee. A glass of milk, a small dish of mashed bananas and some kind of bland pudding were sitting on the over-the-bed tray.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs insisted he eat something and raised the head of the bed. “Doc came in while you were asleep. See how this stuff goes down and maybe they’ll upgrade you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Am I going to live?” Tony said in a joking manner.</p><p> </p><p>Gibbs glared at him. “You’d better.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did the doctor say?”</p><p> </p><p>“That you’re healthier than you have any right to be, considering what you’ve gone through, and the wound in your gut is healing nicely.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Good.” Tony glanced at his arm, supported by a large foam pillow that elevated it. There were various tubes sprouting from the heavy bandage, and a splint bracing his forearm.</p><p> </p><p>“You want to hear it from me or the doc?” Jethro asked, his voice quiet and calm, as if he was about to impart some bad news to a family member.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly angry, Tony met his eyes and said harshly, “Just fucking tell me.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro didn’t react or look away. “Small hole going in, large exit wound. Heavy damage to the soft tissue, fractured ulna and some damage to tendons and the cartilage in your wrist. It’ll take weeks to heal, and you’ll need therapy.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean a shrink,” Tony said with a dispirited sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“I meant physical therapy, but yeah, maybe a shrink as well.” Jethro took hold of Tony’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Dr. Lindstrom will be in later to talk to you, answer any questions.”</p><p> </p><p>Feeling nauseous, Tony looked away. He pretty much knew what the prognosis was going to be: not good. You didn’t suffer a wound like this without long-term effects, possibly being disabled for life. The odds of him being able to return to work as a special agent were slim at best. “At least it wasn’t my right arm,” he said with a tight smile. “I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“For what?” Jethro asked with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>Tony turned to meet his gaze and shrugged. “For assuming Angie wasn’t a danger. People could have gotten hurt.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Tony…”</p><p> </p><p>“You could’ve gotten hurt, and if that had happened, I’d never have forgiven myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon… We couldn't have known. But we both reacted fast, and if we hadn’t shot her she might’ve killed her sister, and God knows who else,” Jethro explained. “I don’t want to hear of any blame going around, understand?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro leaned in and kissed him. “Let’s try and remain positive, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Tony nodded.</p><p> </p><p>Jethro indicated the food in front of Tony. “Now, eat that mush in front of you, so we can get one step closer to us getting out of here for Christmas.”</p><p> </p><p>“Christmas?” Tony asked. “What day is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sunday. The seventeenth.”</p><p> </p><p>After a few spoonfuls of the soft foods and drinking some milk, Tony gave up. He didn’t know when he’d felt so thoroughly tired. Still, he needed to know some things. “What happened to Billy and Marti?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sgt. Pine was questioned by McGee and Assistant Chief Deputy Randall of the Marshals Service. They determined he had nothing to do with the theft of the missiles. Although he went AWOL there were extenuating circumstances. Randall pulled some strings and reminded Sgt. Pine’s superiors of his combat record, he was released with no repercussions.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pine’s discharge was being finalized in 48 hours anyway,” Tony pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Randall said he’d watch out for Billy and Marti, even if Billy left the witness protection program like he did. They’re heading out West, somewhere remote. Macaluso might be imprisoned for life, but he could still make trouble for them, so Randall is going to keep an eye on the situation.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s good. The missiles are safe? And Sgt. Simpson?”</p><p> </p><p>“ATF and FBI are dealing with him. He’s going to retire in federal prison,” Jethro said, shaking his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Angie...”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro made a noise.</p><p> </p><p>“She was crazy-as-batshit. Did I… Was it my shot?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. You clipped her, but my shot killed her.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.” Nobody liked to kill anyone, especially not a woman…</p><p> </p><p>Reading Tony’s thoughts, Jethro said gruffly, “You think her being a woman makes any difference? She almost killed you.”</p><p> </p><p>“But she didn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>A big ‘but’ hung in the air. “I’m never going to make it back, am I?” Tony asked dejectedly.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Jethro took a seat and opened a newspaper. “If I have anything to say about it, you will. It won’t be easy…”</p><p> </p><p>Tony snorted softly. “Is it ever?”</p><p>
  
</p><p>“We’ll do it, Tony. I’ll be there for you,” Jethro promised.</p><p> </p><p>Tony reached out his hand and Jethro took it. “I love you so much, Jethro,” he said, his voice breaking.</p><p> </p><p>Jethro smiled. “You get some sleep. I’ll wake you when the doc comes in on his rounds.”</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Lindstrom was kind and unhurried, and had his assistant hold up a mirror so Tony could see the entry point at his waist, and the four-inch scar beside it, from when they’d removed the fragmented bullet and repaired his small intestine. Thankfully, the bullet had skimmed past his organs, lodging just under the skin halfway to his navel, and had done minor damage. Although Tony made light of his injuries, he listened carefully to the doctor about the treatment and after-release plan for both of his injuries.</p><p> </p><p>Jethro stood beside him all the while, gripping his hand so tightly, Tony had to ask him to ease up a bit.</p><p> </p><p>The break in his arm was clean – at least the bones hadn’t shattered – but it would take a long time for everything to heal. There would be significant scarring, and possibly another surgery down the road. As far as his arm and hand’s function went, the doctor gave no false promises about them returning to their former strength and ability. It was obvious Tony was in for a very long and painful session of physical therapy.</p><p> </p><p>Tony was drained by the time Dr. Lindstrom had finished his explanation and had outlined the care that he would need. Before he left, the doctor patted Tony’s knee and said, “Support from family and friends can be a major contribution to a positive outcome, and from what I’ve seen, you have quite a team ready to help you.”</p><p> </p><p>Glancing up at Jethro, Tony smiled. “Yeah, they’re good people.”</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Monday, December 18, 2006</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Jeanne? No, don’t hang up on me! Please, I have to talk to you…. Yes, I know I don’t deserve the chance, but I want to explain… I know…. I… Yes… Yes, I’m a low-life, selfish, immature…” Tony sighed and shrugged at Jethro, who was sitting by the window, taking in the sun, pretending he wasn’t listening to the one-sided conversation.</p><p> </p><p>After a couple of minutes, Jethro signed: Tell her.</p><p> </p><p>Tony shrugged and mouthed: Can’t get a word in!</p><p> </p><p>Jethro frowned at him and signed: You want me to talk to her?</p><p> </p><p>Tony waved his hand and mouthed: Noooo!</p><p> </p><p>He spoke over Jeanne when there was an opening. “I understand totally but… but… Can I speak? Thank you. When I tell you what happened, why I missed our date, I know it’s going to sound incongruous, possibly unbelievable, but it’s the truth.” Tony took a breath and spoke fast enough that Jeanne couldn’t interrupt him. “The truth is, I’m a federal officer assigned to locate your father by dating you, on the off-chance you might mention where he was, because he’s an international arms dealer at the top of my agency’s Most Wanted list. I missed our dinner date because some very dangerous weapons were stolen and my boss and I had to take a road trip to deal with the situation. We also ran into a bit of a problem with an AWOL Marine, and a few days ago I was shot and I’ve been in the hospital ever since. Apart from all that, I have to tell my director that I can no longer work undercover for her because I <em>really</em> like the woman I was sent to get in bed with, and no, I don’t mean that in a literal sense, and I just don’t want to hurt you even though, by this point, I know that’s impossible. And… what? Oh, I’m recovering… and… If circumstances were different I’d love to love you, Jeanne, but you deserve someone a whole lot better than me and… Jeanne… Jeanne… Look, it’s never going to happen between us because I’m already committed to someone. Who? Um… it’s a man. Jeanne? Jeanne?” Tony took a breath and said to Jethro, “Huh. She hung up.”</p><p> </p><p>Jethro was shaking his head and doing his best not to laugh. “You piled all that onto her, and she didn’t hang up until you told her you were committed to a man?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s the truth,” Tony protested.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, and same for me. I guess I’d better make my own call,” Jethro said, pulling out his phone.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I’m looking forward to hearing this,” Tony said smugly.</p><p> </p><p>Jethro pressed the buttons on his phone to get Hollis Mann’s number. “Hollis. Good working with you. No, can’t do that, and it’d be best if you don’t come over anymore. Why? My boyfriend doesn’t like it. Thinks you’re trying to get in my pants. Yeah, I sure do love him. That’s right. Yep. You, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, that went well…?” Tony asked.</p><p> </p><p>“It sure is better doing it over the phone. No need to duck when she swings a nine iron,” Jethro said, looking self-satisfied.</p><p> </p><p>Tony grumbled, “You got off too easy. There is one problem though… who’s going to call the director?”</p><p>
  
</p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Seven days later, Monday, December 25, 2006            </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Tony fell asleep as soon as he got in the car, and woke up just as Jethro turned the car onto Main Street in Stillwater, Pennsylvania. They’d had a dusting of snow overnight and everything looked magical. “Look at the lights, the decorations! There’s Santa and his reindeer on that roof!” Tony exclaimed. “Smalltown, America. You gotta love it.”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s Dad’s store,” Jethro pointed out as he drove past the now-closed general store. “Used to work there as a teen. I’m great with a pricing gun!”</p><p>
  
</p><p>The car turned to the right and then took a left onto a tree-lined street with pre-war white shingled houses on extra-large lots, all decorated with lights and Christmas ornaments. Jethro pulled into the driveway of a rambling farmhouse-style residence, and Tony was so excited he released his seat belt and opened the car door before Jethro had even come around to his side to help him out.</p><p> </p><p>“You do <em>not</em> get out without me,” Jethro said in a stern voice, one Tony had been hearing a lot in the past few days. He assisted Tony to his feet, reminding him to lean on him and to please be very careful of his arm.</p><p> </p><p>“I will! I am! Is that your dad?” Tony let go of Jethro in order to wave at the man in the open doorway who was motioning them to come in out of the cold. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Gibbs!”</p><p> </p><p>“Merry Christmas, son,” Jackson Gibbs replied with a grin.</p><p> </p><p>From the way Jackson hugged him, with warmth but great care, Tony knew that Jethro had given him the lowdown on the situation.</p><p> </p><p>Jethro had phoned his dad from the hospital, and talked to him for a while, and from what Tony had heard of the conversation, it wasn’t as stilted as he’d feared it would be. The end result was they were invited for Christmas. Seven days later, armed with pages of instructions for wound care, and a set-in-stone appointment to return to the hospital in three days’ time for a specialist to check out Tony’s arm, they’d set out for Stillwater.</p><p> </p><p>Tony’s doctor had been understanding, but he’d also warned Tony of all the things that could go wrong if he didn’t take extremely good care of himself. He’d had a slight infection that had delayed his discharge by a few days, but he felt surprisingly good right now.</p><p> </p><p>He had promised to take his meds, the pain pills, the antibiotics. And yes, he had promised not to do anything but sit or sleep, to let others take care of him, and to eat only the foods allowed on his restricted diet. “Look Doc, I’ll do whatever it takes to be with family this holiday, and I’m not going to jeopardize the gift I’ve been given,” he’d said, and he’d meant it.</p><p> </p><p>Tony stood in the entryway and watched Jethro, the man he loved more than anything in the world, hesitantly hug his father. He saw the way Jethro’s eyes closed, in relief and love for his dad, when the old man hugged him back. When Jethro opened his eyes, sniffed, and pretended he had something in his eye, Tony knew this was going to be the very best Christmas ever.</p><p> </p><p>Once he’d been carefully extricated from his coat, and Jethro had ascertained the sling was holding his bandaged arm close to his chest, Tony sat on a comfortable couch in front of a blazing fire. Jackson poured them drinks (ginger ale for him, bourbon for the Gibbs men), and led a toast, declaring, “Merry Christmas to all of us!”</p><p> </p><p>After a small meal of bland foods that Jackson had kindly made for him, Tony couldn't help yawning, so Jethro got him ready for bed and tucked him in with a support pillow for his arm. Jack had given them a ground floor bedroom that had both a queen and a single bed, which Tony found amusing but sweet.</p><p> </p><p>He knew he’d sleep soundly once he took his nighttime pain meds, and Jethro wanted to sit and talk with his dad for a while. Before Jethro left the room, Tony pulled him down for a kiss that turned out to be a lot longer and more passionate than he’d expected, and when Jethro drew back and smiled, Tony asked, “You trying to get me excited?”</p><p> </p><p>When Jethro replied, “We’ve got plenty of time. A lifetime together,” Tony knew that somehow everything would work out just fine.</p><p> </p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Epilog, a year later, December 25, 2007</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Open this one next,” Tony said, handing a large, brightly wrapped gift to Jackson.</p><p> </p><p>“Another one for me?” Jackson asked. Before he unwrapped it, he asked Jethro to retrieve a large box tucked under the sweeping branches of the beautiful Christmas tree they’d cut down and decorated a couple of days earlier. “It’s for Tony.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony thought the tree was the most beautiful thing in the world, even if they’d had to turn it so the sparser side was hidden against the wall. It was decorated with little lights, ornaments that were both bought and home-made, some of which went back a couple of generations, candy canes and chocolates in the shape of Santa, wrapped in colorful foil.</p><p> </p><p>But it wasn’t the shape of the tree, or its delicious piney smell, or even all the trimmings enhancing its branches that made it all so beautiful in Tony’s eyes. It was special because they’d driven Jackson’s old truck out to Lank’s Tree Farm, and trudged through the snow looking for the perfect tree. It was perfect because Jethro had handed him his dad’s old two-man tooth saw, and they’d both gotten down on their knees, took hold of a handle and started sawing.</p><p> </p><p>It was memorable due to scent of pine in the cold air as he and Jethro cut through the wood, and the way Jackson gave them instructions and held the tree in place when they made their last cut, and the laughter when it almost fell on top of Jethro because he was watching Tony instead of paying attention. It was the best feeling ever when they finally got the tree tied down in the back of the pickup, and they savored the hot cocoa Jethro poured into mugs from a large thermos he had brought along.</p><p> </p><p>These were all memories Tony would treasure for the rest of his life, as were the cold kisses Jethro gave him behind a pine tree when he thought nobody was looking, and the way Jackson had become an important part of their lives and made Tony part of the family, and the way Jethro got along with his dad, even if they didn’t agree on everything. But most of all, Tony was ecstatic that not only had his arm healed completely – even though the inside of his forearm was misshapen with deep scars that would never go away – but he had regained enough strength and mobility to have recently passed the NCIS physical, and was now reinstated as a special agent.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s from Jethro,” Jackson explained, as Tony took the gift-wrapped present.</p><p> </p><p>Tony tore off the paper, as excited as any kid on Christmas morning, not at all embarrassed that his pile of gifts was the biggest of the three of them. Inside he found a hand-knitted, bulky yarn, cable-stitched, olive green cardigan with real leather buttons. “Oh, it’s so soft. And there are pockets! I love it!”</p><p> </p><p>Jackson nodded towards his son and told Tony, “Leroy chose the color, said it matched your eyes.”</p><p> </p><p>Tony rose from his seat and gave a rosy-cheeked Jethro a big hug and kiss. “Thank you, honey.”</p><p> </p><p>“One of Abby’s nuns knitted it to order,” Jethro said as he watched Tony try it on.</p><p> </p><p>“What d’you think?” Tony asked, turning around for inspection.</p><p> </p><p>“Beautiful,” Jethro said. “Just perfect.”</p><p> </p><p>“Back at you,” Tony said with a wink. “Okay, time for chow! I brought Champagne. We are going to celebrate my reinstatement, and being together, a family, and… I just want to say I love you both. I’ve never been so happy in all my life.”</p><p> </p><p>Jackson gave Tony a hug that Tony sank into, just taking in the love. Jethro stood there looking at them until Tony held out his arm in invitation and said, “C’mon, Jethro, you know you want some of it. Group hug!”</p><p>
  
</p><p>※÷※÷※÷※÷※<strong> the end </strong>※÷※÷※÷※÷※</p><p>
  
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